


Home in Winterfell

by coffeexwhiskey



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, AryaxGendry - Freeform, Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gendrya Fix-it, Guilty Jon Snow, King Bran Stark, Let's fix our broken Gendrya hearts, Reunions, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, We need to mention Ghost more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeexwhiskey/pseuds/coffeexwhiskey
Summary: With scrolls sent to her brothers, Sansa has to get back to work and prepare for the homecoming of her sister, Arya.Ever since being crowned as the King of the Six Kingdoms of Westeros, the Three-Eyed Raven has never been back to the North. This will be a first.With Arya’s arrival back in the North, Jon knows there will be changes coming but he doesn’t know what those changes will be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written to cure broken hearts post 8x06.  
I apologize in advance for the errors/typos.  
This is my first ASOIAF/GoT fic so I hope you like it.

** _Winterfell_ **

“A raven came for you, Your Grace,” Maester Wolkan handed Sansa the scroll. It was not sealed by wax making Sansa more curious as to whom the letter is from.

After thanking the Maester, she quickly pulled through the twine to read the message.

_Dear Sansa,_

_It has been a long time since I’ve written to you. I hope you and the rest of the North is doing well._

_I have sailed through so many seas and visited so many lands in the past years and discovered more than I can imagine. I have never been the happiest. There’s so much more to discover but with the companion I have, these loyal Northmen deserve their much needed rest because just like me, they miss their families and homes dearly._

_In this voyage, the biggest surprise of my life came and made me a different person. A person I never thought I had in me and I dream of one day for you to accept that._

_I never thought the day would come that I would decide to come back to Winterfell and I am hoping that you will welcome us with warmth and love._

_Your sister,_

_Arya_

The tears started to fall from Sansa’s Tully blue eyes as she read the last line of her sister’s letter. She does not understand what Arya really meant by _a person she never thought she had in her _and that one day she can _accept that._ But the thought of seeing her sister again after five years was much more important than anything else for the Queen in the North. With Bran King of the Six Kingdoms and Jon over The Wall, Sansa never felt lonelier. She may be ruling the North but without her family by her side, Queen Sansa was never truly happy.

She pulled out a scroll and a quill to write to Jon to inform him of the letter she received from Arya. Jon may or may not come to Winterfell to meet their sister but she can always try. And despite that Bran is not the same anymore but is now the Three-Eyed Raven, she still felt like there’s a need for her to inform him though she doubted that he’d never seen this coming.

With scrolls sent to her brothers, Sansa has to get back to work and prepare for the homecoming of her sister, Arya.

** _King’s Landing_ **

“Princess Arya’s back?” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard asked after Lord Tyrion finished reading the scroll from the Queen in the North.

“She’s coming back to Westeros, yes.” Tyrion replied.

“Then we should welcome her with a feast!” the roaring voice of Ser Davos made everyone’s head turn towards the Onion Knight.

“That won’t be necessary Ser Davos,” this time everyone’s eyes were on the King. The Small Council scrambled to their feet to properly greet him.

With his stone-cold stare, he looked at every pair of eyes in the room; Ser Pod standing behind his wheelchair.

The Council peered through each other with questioning looks. Some shrugged as no one knows why the King said of this.

“Arya is going home to her family and not anywhere else,” The King added.

Once everyone was back on their seats, Tyrion cleared his throat as a sign that they should continue on with their meeting.

“Queen Sansa mentioned that if you wish to see your sister once she’s back, we are welcome to visit the North,” The Hand tried to sound confident but the hint of caution in his voice was evident.

“Then we will visit the North,” Bran replied calmly.

The Small Council didn’t hide their surprise.

Ever since being crowned as the King of the Six Kingdoms of Westeros, the Three-Eyed Raven has never been back to the North. This will be a first. Though Ser Brienne, Lord Tyrion and Maester Sam along with his family would visit Winterfell from time to time to see Sansa or their friends, The King would always be in his home in the South and would only communicate to his sister through ravens and scrolls.

“Are you sure, Your Grace?” the Hand asked warily.

“We can ask Princess Arya and Queen Sansa to come and see you instead. I’m sure-“

“Like I said, Arya will be going home,” Ser Brienne’s suggestion was cut off by the King himself. “I should take my rest.”

And with that, Ser Podrick carefully wheeled him away from the rest but stopped when the King spoke again, his cold voice startling them, “I believe your council is needed in the Stormlands, Ser Davos.”

The Onion Knight has never been this confused by the King.

“I’ll never get used to him,” Ser Davos murmured once The King and Ser Pordrick were out of earshot, “Nope. Never.” He shook his head as they all sat back on their seats.

** _Beyond The Wall_ **

“Your sister? The Night King killer?” the Giantsbane took another swig of his goat’s milk as he sat beside Jon.

They were seated on the cold snow at the edge of the Freefolk village, the fire warming them along with Ghost who is lying beside Jon.

“She’s coming home,” Jon’s hoarse voice low as the sun setting for the day.

He doesn’t know why but seeing his sister makes him nervous. He doesn’t know what to expect from Arya. Everytime he sees her, there’s something new about her favourite sibling or now, cousin.

“Don’t you want to see her?” Tormund asked.

Jon gave a big sigh before answering, “I’m not sure, really. I want to but I also don’t.”

“What kind of brother doesn’t want to see his sister,” Tormund chuckled taking another mouthful of milk.

_A brother full of guilt._

“A stupid one,” he decided to say, Jon stood up from his place and took his routine walk around the cold mountain.

Every three months he’d go down to Castle Black to meet with Sansa as she makes her scheduled visit to the Wall. They’d exchange stories and worries and laugh about memories. It was the only time Sansa and Jon would meet family and everytime they see each other they make the most of it.

With Arya’s arrival back in the North, Jon knows there will be changes coming but he doesn’t know what those changes will be.

** _Storm’s End_ **

“I heard Arya’s coming back to Westeros,” Lord Baratheon took a bite of his meat and quickly washed it down with wine, hiding his face with the goblet.

Ser Davos was about to shove a bread on his mouth but stopped halfway, gazing towards the Lord of Storm’s End, “Yes. Yes she is.”

They continued with their supper in silence, Gendry never lifting his eyes off his plate and Ser Davos constantly eyeing him.

“We’re going to the North; the council along with the King,” the Onion Knight tried to sound as casual as he can. Gendry just nodded towards his food.

Ser Davos was in Storm’s End. He usually visits Lord Gendry in his castle either because he misses the lad whom he sees as his own son or because the King asks him to, and it’s not as far as Winterfell after all. Gendry had shared his relationship with Arya to the Onion Night. He trusted no one but him. And after a few days of pondering with the King’s words during the Small Council’s meeting, Ser Davos finally understood what he meant.

He dropped his utensils on his plate with a clang making the Lord of Storm’s End finally look up. He held Gendry’s eyes with a stern gaze, “Aren’t you going to see her?”

“I don’t think there’s a need for me to see her, Ser Davos,” he picked up the goblet of wine and emptied it.

Clacking his tongue, Ser Davos shook his head, “You know lad, it’s not everyday that we are given another chance to true happiness.”

“I am happy,” Gendry returned the old man’s unyielding gaze.

“No you’re not,” a fatherly smile crept on Ser Davos’s face. He stood from his seat and walked away from the dining hall, “See you in the morning, lad.”


	2. Chapter 2

** _Winterfell_ **

“Your Grace, Princess Arya and her party are now in Winter Town.”

Queen Sansa lifted her head from the parchment she was reading. With a smile on her beautiful face, the Queen in the North gave a nod and stood up from her seat. Quickly walking towards the main gates of Winterfell, Sansa couldn’t hide her excitement as she gave her last orders towards her people. She could see the group of men and a couple of women from where she stood in the open gates of her home.

Without a doubt, she can tell that the woman sitting on top of the white horse is her sister. Though her hair is a bit longer from the last time she had seen her, cheeks more rosy than ever, those grey eyes will only belong to the one and only Arya stark.

** _Castle Black_ **

“Where’s the Queen?” Jon asked the Night’s Watch men, Tormund and Ghost on his heels.

“Princess Arya arrives today. The Queen will not be attending to her usual schedule,” a man answered.

Jon and Tormund exchanged looks. He was expecting to see Sansa in Castle Black like they always do every three months. Ever since he received the scroll from Sansa mentioning Arya’s return, Jon tried his best to shove the news behind and totally forgot about the fact that their little sister will be arriving in Winterfell that day.

“Are we going to Winterfell?” Tormund asked with much curiosity. He only received a pat in the shoulder as Jon walked past him heading towards the kitchens of Castle Black.

** _King’s Road_ **

The King’s caravan towards the North is not as big as it used to be. With no wife and children that required protection, Bran the Broken travelled towards the other end of Westeros with only his Small Council, Kingsguard, a couple of handmaids and thirty soldiers.

They will be arriving in Winterfell in two more nights, and as they camp for the night the Lord Hand received a raven from the Queen in the North saying that Princess Arya has arrived.

“I do not know what to expect this time,” Tyrion said, the rest of the council sitting around the table with him.

“What do you mean?” Lord Bronn of Highgarden asked with interest.

“Well, the first time I met young Lady Arya she was wild as a wildling,” Tyrion answered with a hint of disgust in his voice. Maester Sam eyed him crossly from his seat making the Hand sit up quickly as he defended his arguments, “What I meant was, she was a very active girl,” he let the words slowly roll out of his tongue, being more careful with his choice of words.

“And then she killed the Night King,” Ser Brienne said, amusement plastered on her face; remembering the time she used to combat with the young she-wolf in the practice yard of Winterfell.

“That she did,” with a chuckle, Lord Yohn Royce added. After serving the Vale, he was appointed by the Hand as the new Master of War not long ago.

“Are there more Lords and Ladies going to the North to welcome back the Hero of Winterfell?” The Hand asked the crowd.

“I’m sure there will be others who want to see her again,” Ser Davos simply answered.

“Is the Lord of Storm’s End one of those _others _then_?” _The Lord Commander asked knowingly.

Ser Davos only replied with a bitter laughter as the rest of the Small Council exchanged meaningful looks.

“No. I don’t think that stubborn bull will.”

“He’s not a bull anymore Ser Davos,” Tyrion corrects him, “He’s a stag.”

** _Storm’s End_ **

“M’lord,” Gendry turned away from the big stone window of his tower.

“How many times do I have to tell you-“

“Not to call you M’lord. Yeah. Yeah,” Hot Pie swatted his hand as he walked closer to his friend.

After finally putting things in order in his kingdom, Gendry decided to find Hot Pie in the Riverlands and asked him to work in his kitchens instead. Without a hint of hesitation, the proud baker accepted the offer and now lives in Storm’s End as well.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Gendry asked pointing out towards one of the chairs as he sat on the opposite side of the desk.

Gendry can see in his friend’s face that he’s reluctant with his words. He waited and encouraged him to say whatever it is he wanted to say.

“I noticed you don’t plan on seeing Arry,” Hot Pie looked nervous as he fidgeted with his fingers.

Gendry didn’t give an answer, so Hot Pie continued, “I was wondering if it would be alright with you if I go to Winterfell to welcome her.”

Arya did mention before that it was Hot Pie who told her that the Boltons were dead and that Jon took over Winterfell after he won the Battle of the Bastards.

There’s no reason for him to stop his friend from meeting Arya. So he nodded kindly, “Sure. She’d be happy to see you.”

“She’d be happy to see _you_.” Hot Pie corrected.

Gendry just shook his head.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Arry but I’m sure it would make her happy to see the two of us again. And maybe we could even go on the road once more, just like the old times,” Hot Pie suggested excitedly. “You’re a Lord now, and she’s the Princess of the North, we can go anywhere we want.”

Gendry tried to give a smile, seeing how enthusiastic his friend is with the idea of going on an adventure again. He got up from his seat and walked back to where he stood right before Hot Pie came in, looking over Shipbreaker Bay, “She’s not a Princess,” he said. “She wasn’t even a Lady.”


	3. Chapter 3

** _Winterfell_ **

“You’re here.”

Sansa has never felt so happy in years. As she watched her sister hop down the horse, she couldn’t stop herself from running towards her and wrapped Arya in a loving hold. She smelled a hint of sun and salt but the lingering smell of _Arya _was still there; the scent of her younger sister she never knew she’d recognize.

After all they’ve been through, their relationship had changed tremendously. Before, they would fight over the smallest of things, seeing how the other was the exact opposite of the other girl. But now, differences were thrown away as they embrace everything they have in common; hardships and loss and the name of Stark.

“I’ve missed you,” Sansa whispered, still holding Arya in her arms.

“I’ve missed you too,” the Queen in the North could hear the tremble in her sister’s voice.

Sansa felt someone walk passed her, and noticed a hand pulling on Arya’s cloak. Looking down, bright blue eyes looked up to her, a grip still on Arya’s clothing. She addressed a questioning gaze towards Arya who looked surprised that there was a tug on her cloak and worried after seeing who it was and excited, all at the same time.

Arya took the little girl’s hand that was holding on to her, “In a minute Choti,” she whispered to the girl but loud enough for Sansa to hear. Arya eyed the woman who was standing a few feet away from them and took the girl from the two sisters.

Still baffled, Sansa followed the woman and the girl with her eyes.

“The Godswood,” she heard Arya say.

** _Castle Black_ **

“Are we going to sit here until the sun rises again or should we start riding back to the Freefolk?” the annoyed voice of Tormund made Jon finally blink and look away from wall, now away from his thoughts. “You’ve been gawking at that fucking wall for almost an hour. Tell me, is there a beauty that you can see that I don’t? ” Tormund added.

Jon refilled his cup with more ale and finished it in one go making his head hurt more.

As he filled his cup again he said, “We’re going to Winterfell. We’re going to my sisters.”

And after finishing the jug of ale, Jon along with Tormund saddled up, with Ghost closely behind and headed towards home.

** _Storm’s End_ **

“When are you leaving?”

Hot Pie dropped the dough he was kneading on the counter once seeing the Lord of Storm’s End standing in the entrance of his kitchen.

“I-In three days,” he stumbled, “You scared me there.”

“Sorry,” Gendy muttered, walking closely to the baker. “What are you making?”

“Pie crust. I’ve got the dough for the bread ready too. All I have to do is bake them right before I leave,” there’s that tone of pride Gendry always hears from his friend whenever he talks about his work.

Gendry eyed the dough lined up on the other side of the kitchen. It could feed an army once it’s ready.

“Are we having a feast I didn’t know about?” he asked inquiringly.

Hot Pie chuckled before placing the freshly kneaded dough along with the others, “It’s for Arry. She liked the wolf bread I made her, do you remember?”

Gendry remembered clearly. Arya even wondered what is was. He chuckled to himself.

“Yes I do,” he answered meekly.

“And when I saw her back when I still worked for the innkeeper, she liked the pie I made. I hope you don’t mind,” peering to the Lord carefully, Hot Pie had a guilty smile on his face. He forgot to ask the Lord of Storm’s End if he could use their supplies to feed the Northmen.

Gendry laughed it off, patting his friend on the back, “That’s alright. I’m sure it’ll make her happy.”

He was about to step out of the kitchens when Hot Pie said, “You always talk about making her happy.”

The words made him stop on his tracks, his back still facing Hot Pie.

“What do you know about making her happy?” the accusing tone in Hot Pie’s voice was not missed by Lord Gendry Baratheon.

“I know enough.”

He left the kitchens and stayed in his chambers for the rest of the day.

** _The Godswood of Winterfell_ **

“It’s still snowing,” Arya commented as she looked around her.

“Yes. It’s whatever’s left of the long winter.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“You had your reasons,” the Queen smiled understandingly.

The two sisters walked in silence as they neared the Weirwood tree.

“The girl,” it was Sansa who spoke again first. She watched as her sister sat on the root of the giant tree, still covered with a thin layer of snow.

“Is my daughter,” Arya answered simply and looked up to her, a hint of smile showing on her face as she thought of the little girl.

“How?” The Queen was confused as more questions ran through her mind, her knitted brows and rising voice making it obvious. _Who’s the father? When did she even lay with a man? How long has she kept this from her? Why did she hide this from her? Is she even capable of raising a child?_ As far as Sansa remembered, her sister was never ladylike. To even think that she slept with a man was a very big surprise for her. And by the looks of it, the little girl was conceived years ago.

“I think we both know how to make a babe, Sansa,” Arya grinned at her.

“I know that. What I meant was-“

“It happened before we fought the dead. I had no idea that I walked into battle in King’s Landing with a babe inside of me,” Arya cut her off. “I only knew about her when I was already sailing away from Westeros. We docked in a small island called Bharata and that’s where I gave birth to Charlotte.”

“Charlotte?” Sansa repeated. A curious name but nevertheless, it fondly reminded her of their mother, Catelyn.

Arya nodded, “The woman from Bharata who helped me said it was a miracle that we survived. She was small when she came so she named her Charlotte for I was asleep for days after giving birth to her. They thought I was not going to make it.”

Horror struck the Queen at the thought of losing another sibling, but she still listened to her sister in silence.

“That woman had been to so many places and mentioned that once she visited a place where the name Charlotte meant petite and free. So I thought it was perfect and didn’t change it,” Arya sighed and continued, “I’ve been travelling with a child the whole time and I’m grateful that the Northmen with me didn’t question my guidance despite having a big belly for some time,” she chuckled. “And they grew fond of her. Whenever we see land, we’d take her with us. She had seen so much yet she hasn’t been to the most important place for her mother.”

Arya discreetly wiped a tear that slowly rolled down her cheek, “I was scared, Sansa.” She rubbed her hands together to warm them. Looking up to her sister she said, “I thought I was brave, but I was scared. But then again, father once said that you are the bravest when you’re scared. Every single day as I carried that baby in me, I asked the Gods if I would be able to do this; if I am capable of being a mother. But then I thought of our own mother. How she was able to raise all of us. I thought of you, if it would have been easier if I had my sister with me. Or Jon. Or Bran. And everyday I thought of the day you’d meet her.”

Tears were also pooling in Sansa’s eyes, but she ignored them, “Then why didn’t you come home sooner?”

“Because I didn’t know what to do once I’m back. I wanted to. I wanted to come back but then I realized Westeros is not the same anymore. None of it! Whenever I think about it all I see are the ghosts of mother and father, Robb and Rickon. The dead crawling around and fire breathing dragons, burning people alive,” Arya sniffed and wiped more tears. “I didn’t want to be a Lady nor a Princess. I wanted to go and see what lies ahead and forget everything. I was still able to do that. I was able to get through my grief and fear.”

Arya stood up. Her voice firm, “If there is one thing I learned from all those years with Charlotte, it’s that a child can never hinder you from doing anything that will make you happy. She saved me……. Or whatever’s left of me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments! The Gendry ones really made me laugh. :D  
They're melting my emotional heart and I love replying to them. <3 Enjoy chapter 4, sweetlings!

** _Winterfell_ **

“Mama!” from where they were standing, Sansa and Arya could hear the cry of the little girl.

Arya quickly walked passed her sister as she headed towards the yard of Winterfell.

There, she found her daughter struggling to break free from the woman who was holding her.

She was about to bare her teeth on the woman’s hand when Arya stopped her, “Charlotte!” she rushed to the aggressive little girl.

“I told you, in a minute,” Arya heaved a sigh and went down on her knees to meet Charlotte’s eyes, “Remember I told you about the Queen in the North?” she asked softly, absentmindedly rubbing her hands on her daughter’s arms to warm her up.

“Queen Sansa?” the little girl answered.

Arya nodded with a smile on her face.

She never missed a day of reciting her new list. The list of people’s names she will see again once she’s back in Westeros. The people she wanted Charlotte to meet and sometimes they’d recite the names together one by one then Arya would tell her stories about them.

“Would you like to meet her, Choti?” the girl only nodded innocently.

The two walked towards the Weirwood tree in the Godswood where they found Sansa in Arya’s seat earlier.

Once seeing the pair, the Queen was quick on her feet. A scene she never thought she’d see for as long as she lived; her sister, Arya with a child.

“Charlotte, this is-“

“Your Aunt Sansa,” Arya was surprised when she was cut off by her sister’s eager voice.

This time, it was the Queen who stooped down to be in the child’s level.

“I’m Charlotte, your Grace,” Sansa chortled at the short reply. She embraced the little figure with much love as she would give her siblings.

After releasing the girl, she studied her face with her gaze, two pairs of blue eyes staring back on each other.

“That do you think of Winterfell?” Sansa asked, she held the girl’s hand guiding her back on the big root. The Queen sat back and lifted Charlotte to sit on her lap. She sneaked a peak on Arya who was looking over them lovingly.

“Mama said you took Winterfell back.” Charlotte simply replied which took the Queen by surprise.

“What?”

“Mama said someone took your home from you and with Jon Snow’s help, you saved Winterfell,” Charlotte explained, looking up to her mother, “Right, mama?”

Sansa also eyed her sister questioningly.

“Yes. That’s right,” Arya tried to contain her laugh; her sister’s stunned face was trying to ask her questions such as, _What the hell have you been telling your child? What else does she know?_

“So did you?” Charlotte’s question got the Queen back on her senses.

“What?”

“Did you take Winterfell back from the bad people?”

She hesitated and tried to look for words that won’t sound too arrogant, “Well, there were many of us who took Winterfell back from the bad people.”

“But you brought the Knights of the Vale,” Charlotte clarified.

Sansa gave a hard stare to Arya, which only earned her a proud grin from the latter.

“Well, they were my friends. Lord Royce is my friend and he led the Knights of the Vale that time,” she tried to sound as child-friendly as she could.

“Mama said you also have a needle, but only a small one,” this time Sansa had a questioning look towards Arya who made sewing motions.

“Oh, yes. I do have a needle,” Sansa answered happily. “Do you like sewing?”

Charlotte thought for a moment, “The maidens on our ship would do them.”

“Well do you want to see how I do mine?”

“Can I, mama?” the little girl asked.

“Of course.”

With that, Charlotte hopped down from Sansa’s lap excitedly and grabbed her hand to walk out of the Godswood.

Sansa could only smile affectionately to her niece, letting herself be dragged into her castle.

_This is her blood. This is a Stark. This is her family. This is her pack, _she thought.

"Close your eyes, Choti. I will see you in the morning."

Later that night, Sansa found her sister leaving her niece’s chambers when half of the people of the castle were already getting ready to rest for the day.

“Does she always sleep this early?” the Queen asked.

With a tired smile, Arya replied “No. I guess she’s just tired from playing with her new friends.”

The two sisters walked towards Arya’s chambers together. Silence enveloped them and Arya can sense that her sister was about to ask her a sensitive question.

“Arya, I know you don’t plan on telling me but I would still try to ask-“

“Who’s her father?” the younger Stark sat on her featherbed as her sister stood still by the door.

Sansa just looked down on her hands. Somehow feeling embarrassed at interrogating her sister.

“Can you guess?” The Queen thought Arya was being playful, but the tone of her sister’s voice was serious, so no. The young she-wolf was not being playful at all.

“I-I can’t think of anyone.”

“Then we’ll keep it that way.” Arya replied.

“The King is close, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Maester Wolkan. Please tell my sister to see me in the courtyard.”

As the Queen in the North walked away from her solar, she noticed her niece fumbling with her gown down the stairs.

“You can hold your dress like this, Charlotte,” she heard Marie, Charlotte’s carer, instruct the little Princess. She lifted the front of her own dress to show Charlotte how to carry her dress without stumbling down the steps.

“I don’t like this,” the Queen sniggered after hearing her niece’s unhappy comment about her gown. “Can I wear my breeches, like Mama?”

“The King of the Six Kingdoms is coming little Princess, you must wear a gown,” Marie whispered.

“But mama doesn’t wear gowns,” Charlotte argued.

“She did,” Marie and Charlotte looked up to see the Queen standing a few steps up the stairs. The carer quickly bowed to her.

“When your mother was just as young as you, she wore dresses that our Septa used to help us make,” Sansa walked closer to her niece. “Here,” she showed the little girl how to hold on to the front of her dress and kick the edge with every step they take. “That way, you won’t step on your gown.”

Charlotte followed.

“You like watching people sew dresses yet you don’t like wearing them,” Sansa chuckled as she watched her niece carefully.

“I can’t play in them,” the little girl answered.

“Well, you really are your mother’s daughter.”

Charlotte on replied with a beaming smile.

Once everyone was lined up in the courtyard, The Queen leaned to her sister who was standing beside her. She held her hand tightly. Arya held on it just as tight, passing comfort to each other.

Arya took a peek on her daughter who couldn’t stand still. Charlotte doesn’t seem too happy with the flowing robes she had to wear. Arya kept her smile to herself.

“Now _that _is something I did not expect,” Lord Tyrion froze from where he stood.

All eyes were on the reunion that was happening between the Stark siblings with a little girl holding on tightly to Princess Arya.

“Never in a million years,” Ser Brienne added, standing still beside the other members of the Small Council of Bran the Broken.

Without a word, Ser Davos walked closer to the group, greeting the Queen in the North with a low bow. He looked over to Arya who was in the verge of crying, the tears glistening on her eyes. He hugged her, held her by the shoulders and said, “I’m happy you’re back.”

“I’m happy to see you again Ser Davos,” Arya smiled sincerely to the old man.

The Onion Night didn’t miss the little Princess still clutching onto Arya. He looked over at her blue eyes, sure that he’d seen it before.

Arya stood in silence as she watched Ser Davos bend over to her daughter.

_He knows._

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” asked the old man.

Charlotte looked up to her mother, silently asking permission to answer the man. Arya nodded down at her daughter.

“Charlotte, my Lord.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Ser Davos patted her head softly.

“Marie said a pretty girl deserves a pretty name. But I’m not pretty so my name-”

“You’re just as pretty as your mother... And you have your-“

“Lord Royce,” Arya cut him off. She was now looking up to Yohn, her face stern. Princess Arya continued on greeting the rest of the visitors, Ser Davos stepping behind the crowd with a wary expression on his face as he studied the mother and daughter from afar.

“You still practicing?” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard brazenly walked across the practice yard later that day.

“Never missed a day,” Arya slid her Needle back on its sheath, walking over to her daughter.

Brienne eyed the little girl sitting on a barrel, holding on to a practice sword. She couldn’t help but smile seeing how Charlotte resembled her mother so much.

“Are you practicing too Princess Charlotte?” the Knight asked.

Charlotte grinned, “Mama gives me lessons,” she said proudly.

Brienne and Arya locked eyes and tried to stifle their laughs.

“She’s a very good fighter too, Choti,” Arya said playfully as she brought her daughter down to the ground.

“Ser Brienne of Tarth!” the little Princess said happily, “Mama said you practiced with her. Can you teach me too, Ser Brienne?” the gleaming hope in the blue eyes made Arya’s heart ache.

She wanted her daughter to learn how to fight, to be able to protect herself when she’s not around- but hoped she’d never have to.

“How old are you, sweetling?” Ser Brienne asked the excited little girl.

“I’ll be having my fifth name-day soon.”

“You’re too young to learn how to use a sword.”

“I’m not young!” Charlotte argued.

“I’m sure you’re not,” Brienne said teasingly and laughed with Arya as they watched the little fighter play with her _sword_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a four year old, Charlotte’s quite talkative don’t you think? :D
> 
> Next chapter is one of my favorites, but I hope you enjoyed this one too. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's coming back to Winterfell.

** _Winterfell_ **

“It’s cold out here, Princess.” Ser Davos didn’t even see the slightest bit of reaction from Arya as he walked close to her.

Standing in the walls of Winterfell, the two stood in silence for a moment as they looked over the empty lands covered lightly with snow.

"The two of us stood right here as we watched those monsters cross over the trenches," he only received a hum from Arya, an indication that she was listening. "I watched you fight them off with the weapon he made you."

Surprised, Arya's head snapped towards him, "How did you know?"

"He told me," Ser Davos answered as he let out a sigh, "He's the closest thing I have to a son, after my own son died… He's family."

Arya didn't answer to that. A moment of silence passed before she spoke.

“I never thought I’d be up here again,” Arya said softly, eyes away from Ser Davos, “I thought I’d never come back.”

“Then why did you?” Ser Davos tried to sound ignorant and she knew it.

“You know exactly why, Ser Davos,” Arya’s voice was as cold as the night. It was only the two of them who knows the truth about Charlotte.

“Her eyes are just like her father’s, her hair as dark as his. And she even walks like him,” he recited the similarities with a chuckle.

“I know,” Arya simply answered.

“Then why didn’t you tell him?”

“I don’t think he wanted to know.”

“What do you know about what he wanted?” he asked reproachfully.

“I know he wanted to marry me,” Arya still sounded calm.

With sadness in his voice this time, Ser Davos replied, “And he still does.”

“Then that’s why.”

Arya ended the conversation by walking back inside the castle leaving the old man as he sighed again.

The next few days were spent catching up with friends and family. Sansa would join Bran in the Godswood in silence; Arya would spend most of her time with her daughter riding around the North and before the day ends, they’d train with Brienne or Podrick in the practice yard; Bronn would spend most of his time convincing Tyrion to visit taverns and brothels as Ser Davos debates if he should send a raven to Gendry to tell him about his daughter, but he never did.

One evening, as everyone was enjoying the feast in the great hall, Arya was called by Marie. Charlotte happened to hit herself in a corner of a table as she played with a stableman’s son. She almost leaped from her seat to see her daughter, with Sansa following close behind.

“I told her to stop running around so many times but she wouldn’t listen,” Marie explained.

“Like she ever did,” Arya muttered, studying her daughter for some bruises.

Charlotte stood silently in front of the elders trying to show her mother her brave face but her tears betrayed her.

“Where does it hurt, Choti?” Arya asked as she wiped away the tears with her thumb. The little princess pointed at the corner of her head right where her forehead and hairline would meet. Arya saw a bump, her daughter’s skin turning purple.

“I shall call the Maester,” the Queen offered. She was about to walk away when she was stopped by her sister.

“It’s alright Sansa. There’s no need for a Maester,” Arya said, “Charlotte will be going to bed early tonight and rest her head,” she eyed the little one whose eyes widen with her mother’s words.

“But I’m not tired yet,” Charlotte argued, “It doesn’t hurt, mama. I don’t need to go to bed,” the tears were streaming down again, this time because of panic that she’d have to stop playing.

Sansa, finally caught up with the teasing, tried to muffle her laugh.

Arya shook her head, “That’s enough for today little lady. Let’s get you to your chambers,” she took her daughter’s hand and led her up the stairs, telling Marie that she can leave Charlotte with her.

“Are you not coming back to the feast?” Sansa asked.

“I don’t think so,” Arya replied.

Sansa gave a small nod and walked back towards the great hall.

“Open the gates!” a guard shouted.

As soon as the gates of Winterfell were opened, Jon Snow walked inside the castle grounds together with his companion. He handed his horse to a stableman and noticed the banners of Bran the Broken.

“The King’s here?” Jon asked a soldier.

“Yes, along with his Small Council.”

“What are they doing here?” he started to walk inside the castle.

“They’re here to welcome Princess Arya,” the soldier responded as he walked alongside Jon.

“Where are they now?”

“In the great hall.”

And with that, the former King in the North hastily marched towards his siblings.

He went straight away to the head table ignoring the curious eyes around him, “Your Grace,” he bowed to Sansa then held her face to give her a kiss on the forehead, the Queen held on to her brother happily. “Your Grace,” he bent a knee to Bran.

The gleeful eyes of Jon Snow narrowed towards the table as he was being greeted with warm embraces and thumps, “Where’s Arya?”

“Up in-,” but before the Queen could finish her words, Jon was already dashing towards the family solar. The Queen ran after him as quickly as she could.

“She’s probably not in there,” thinking that her sister must still be putting her niece to bed. But Jon was already outside Arya’s chambers. He was about to push the door open, when he heard the muffled voices coming from inside the room.

“Only for tonight, you promise?” he could hear his sister’s voice. With the words he just heard, his curiosity grew more as to what his sister is doing in her chambers while the rest are still at the feast.

“I promise,” he heard an unfamiliar voice replied. He eyed Sansa who was standing behind him, looking down on her shoes, shaking her head as if this was a bad idea.

“Good. Because a brave little fighter like you should be sleeping in their own quarters and not on their mama’s,” that made Jon push the door open.

To Jon’s surprise, he witnessed Arya lying on the edge of her featherbed and kissing a little girl’s forehead followed by a look of surprise when she saw him, and it bewildered the former King in the North.

“Jon,” Sansa held on to his arm, not sure what to expect from his reaction.

Charlotte stared at the man by the door, “Mama?” she spoke questioningly as she clutches her mother’s arm tightly.

Arya stood from her place after patting Charlotte’s hand gently and walked towards him. Instead of hugging him, she took one of his hands and guided him towards the bed where Charlotte was.

“Choti,” she smiled to her daughter lovingly, “This is your Uncle Jon.”

Jon Snow stared at the little girl with a confused gaze, then to Arya, then to Sansa.

“Arya,” he doesn’t understand what’s happening and held on to her eyes.

“Jon, this is Charlotte,” Sansa walked over to the other side of the bed and sat beside her niece, “Arya’s daughter.”

“How come you never told us?” the roaring voice of Jon Snow echoed in the empty room.

Arya heaved a sigh as she shook her head. She should have expected this from him.

Walking back and forth, Jon ran his fingers through his dark locks, “How old is she?” he demanded.

“She’s about to turn five in a few days,” Arya answered.

“And her father?” he locked his gaze to Arya. And again, she shook her head.

“What do you mean?” Jon growled again, feeling more impatient with his sister’s replies.

“He doesn’t know,” she retorted firmly.

The white wolf huffed, “Who is he?”

“You don’t need to know,” Arya barked at him, also feeling tired with this interrogation, “Can you just please leave it be? Can you just be happy that I’m home again?” 

“I am happy.”

“Well you don’t sound like it,” they were both raising their voices again, both frustrated with the other.

A minute passed before Jon broke the silence between them, “I was just not expecting to see you with a child,” he looked at her longingly, “But I am happy to see you. I’m happy that you are home.”

Arya crossed the distance between them and hugged her brother tightly.

“I’m happy to see you too.”

Jon cupped her face like he always does and Arya couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing down on her cheeks. She missed this. She missed him.

“I’m sorry,” Jon’s voice was so small, it didn’t even sound like him.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” she held his hands with her own.

Jon shook his head, “I should have listened to you-“

“You did.”

“But it was too late.”

“You still did what you had to do. And I’m sorry you had to.”

“I had no choice,” Jon only placed a kiss on the top of her head, she somehow felt like she was truly home with him beside her.

“Now, let’s go see my niece,” they both walked out the room.

When they reached the door to Arya’s chambers, they found Sansa sitting beside the little Princess as she ran her fingers through the child’s dark locks, humming a tune to a song.

Carefully peeking through the gap, Arya heard Jon whisper, “She’s very fond of her.”

“Very much,” Arya responded.

As soon as they walked inside, Charlotte bolted up, arms wipe open for her mother.

“You should take a sleep and rest your head,” the Queen placed a quick kiss on the girl’s forehead before walking to the door and waited for Jon.

“Good night Aunt Sansa,” replied the sweet voice.

“Good night my sweet.”

Arya grabbed Jon’s hand who was standing awkwardly beside her on the bed, “Say something,” she muttered in a hush.

Clearing his throat, Jon stumbled closer to the pair.

“You have a direwolf,” the little girl got to him first.

He only stood there bewildered, “Y-Yes.”

“His name is Ghost,” Charlotte added.

“Yes.”

“Can I play with him?” she asked hopefully.

Jon looked over to Arya who only gave him an encouraging nod, “Tomorrow. You can play with him tomorrow,” he responded stiffly.

“Now say good night to your uncle, Choti,” Arya took her from her seat to be closer to Jon.

“Good night Uncle Jon,” said Charlotte, looking up to him with her sleepy eyes.

Not knowing what to do, Jon only said, “Good night,” and bent over to kiss Arya on top of her head and rigidly did the same to Charlotte.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” said the Queen as she closed the door, Jon still dazed standing beside her.

“Where's Arya and Jon?”

“Riding, your Grace. They said they’re going to visit the frozen lake by the forest,” her handmaid answered. Sansa knew why they were there; the four Stark siblings had talked about the day after Jon arrived.

“And where is my niece?” the Queen walked down the steps of her solar towards the great hall.

“In the practice yard, your Grace, with Ser Brienne and the Giantsbane,” Sansa smiled knowingly how Brienne might be feeling at the moment.

“I see. Thank you,” the Queen sat on her seat after the crowd showed their respects. The other Lords and Ladies of the North were there too, even their visitors from the South, except for the King whom she assumed was in the Godswood, by the Weirwood tree.

Everyone listened as the Queen in the North discussed supplies, food and other important matters for the Northmen. Tyrion would whisper suggestions at times. The Queen in the North never appointed a Hand and is open to what the others have to say.

“Princess Charlotte will be having her fifth name-day in a few days, your Grace; how are we going to celebrate this special occasion?” one of the Lords asked.

Sansa gave an eloquent grin to the Lord, “A small feast will be enough. My sister and brother are riding in the forest at the moment, to see if it is safe to take Charlotte on a trip to the frozen lake.”

“With all due respect, your Grace,” another Lord spoke, ”but do you think a little girl of five would like to go out riding in the forest for her name-day?”

This comment earned a chuckle from the Queen, “This little girl of five is the daughter of Arya Stark, my Lord. I thought you’d know better.”

** **

** _Wintertown_ **

“She’s just like you, you know,” Jon pulled on the reins of his horse to slow him down. They were nearing the castle now, the sun slowly coming down from the skies.

“So I’ve been told,” Arya replied.

It never occurred to him that Arya would enjoy being a mother. He expected her to hold on to swords, daggers and bows, but never a child. After seeing Arya with Charlotte and spending as much time with them, Jon realized how _he_ had something in common with the little Princess.

He grew up without knowing his mother, though later on he knew about his real parentage. He was still thankful to Ned for taking him as his own. Even though Catelyn never showed him how a mother’s love would feel like, he at lease had his siblings. But Charlotte only had Arya for five years, sailing seas and seeing lands, always constantly moving. He had never felt this adoration towards his sister. _She did it all by herself. _

As they rode back to Winterfell, a thought came to him, “Are you leaving again?”

Arya stopped moving and stared at him.

“Are you leaving Winterfell again with Charlotte?” Jon pressed on.

“I haven’t thought about it,” Arya began to move again, leisurely, this time.

It was true. She’s happy to be back in the North. To show Charlotte what life in Winterfell is like, to be with family other than herself.

Though her home is crowded at the moment with visitors from the South and Lords and Ladies coming in and out to welcome her and send their greetings, what mattered was she finally got to finish her new list again, well almost.

Just outside the castle, Arya noticed a figure guiding wagons to enter the gates. Arya swiftly came down off her horse with Jon following her. She knew who that person was.

“Arry!” Arya turned around from her horse to see Hot Pie. He clasped her back, his round puffy face close to hers, grinning happily.

“Hot pie,” it amazed her how all those great fighters and noble people are dead but here stands the cowardly baker that she calls her friend.

“I heard you were coming back. I had to see you. I even brought bread and pies with me, the ones that I’ve made you before. I hope you missed them because I made sure you have enough. You can even share them to your people.” Arya laughed at how fast he talked, stumbling the words as he showed her the contents of the wagons.

“You know you didn’t have to, thank you” the Princess of Winterfell couldn’t believe her eyes at the fresh supplies of bread and pie.

“Well, you should thank Gendry. I wouldn’t be able to make all of these if he wasn’t so generous. He’s possibly giving away some of it now,” Hot Pie answered heartily.

Arya froze.

“He’s here?” her voice was so small Hot Pie had to lean closer to her.

“Yeah. He’s probably greeting your sister,” the baker innocently replied.

She left Hot Pie without another word and entered the gates of her home as quickly as she could, Jon walking behind her. Arya couldn’t believe her eyes at what she was seeing; black and gold banners, waving on her face as if to taunt her.

Her heart pounded, she felt the heat inside of her but she can tell her hands were freezing cold. Jon stared at her pale face, confused as to why Arya just stood there staring at the banners bearing the stag.

Before he could say a word, Arya rushed inside the castle leaving Jon calling out to her.

"We only received a raven from him last night and now he's here, with loads of bread and pies," the Queen exclaimed. "It's a wonderful surprise."

The conversation about the arrival of the Lord of Storm's End was interrupted by loud dashing footsteps and the roaring voice of Jon Snow as he called for his sister.

Arya’s flushed face took the Queen by surprise. She was at the great hall with Bran and most of his council.

Jon caught up with his sister, just as flushed as her.

“What’s the matter?” Sansa stood from her seat worry and surprise washing over her beautiful face. Her worry reflected on the faces of the other people in the room, except the Three-Eyed Raven’s.

It made everyone more confused as Arya almost screamed at her sister, “Where’s Charlotte?”

“In the practice yard with-,” but before the Queen could tell her who her daughter was with, Arya was running again.

Ser Davos understood immediately why the she-wolf was in such a hurry to see her daughter, so he went running after her. But before he could even leave the room, he heard the King speak, “She’s finally home,” Bran calmly said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's take a guess, who gets to Charlotte first; Arya or the visitor from Storm's End? ;)
> 
> Drop those comments, I love reading them. <3  
Find me on tumblr: coffeexwhiskey


	6. Chapter 6

** _Winterfell_ **

“A little harder this time, Princess,” Brienne instructed as she lifted her practice sword again.

The little Princess eagerly struck the Knight’s sword, a proud grin on her face.

“That was good!” Brienne’s smiled satisfyingly down at her partner.

She guided the little girl with her grip on the practice sword, showing her where to place her fingers, the little Princess happily listened.

“I expect The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would have something more important to do than play with practice swords,” a low voice roared through the yard.

Ser Brienne lifted her head to see the Lord of Storm’s End standing a few feet away from them, looking happy to see a familiar face again, “Lord Gendry…“

But before Brienne could say more, Gendry affixed his eyes behind the Knight. He could see the running figure coming closer to the yard. His heart skipped a beat as they locked eyes for a second and the figure came to a perfect view. A smile slowly crept to his face but was quickly torn away when it wasn’t what he expected to see from her.

Anger.

Fear.

Worry.

“Choti!” she called out, the little girl left Brienne’s side and rushed to her mother’s arms.

She held her daughter tightly, as if someone was about to take her.

Surprised beyond belief, a name came out of Lord Gendry Baratheon’s lips like a prayer, “Arya.”

"Gendry," Ser Davaos called out, beside him stood the Queen in the North and Jon Snow both breathless from running after their sister.

No one moved, eyes either on Arya who's holding her daughter tightly or Lord Baratheon who still couldn't get his eyes off the woman who saved them all from death.

He took a small step forward, confused why Arya ignored him but instead called for the little girl who rushed to her.

"Arya, what's going on?" the Queen carefully asked, looking back and forth from Arya to Gendry, trying to comprehend the situation at hand.

Arya running, looking for Charlotte as if she is going to be taken away.

Jon and Davos chasing after her.

Gendry standing still, looking over her sister and niece.

Arya stooped down to look at her daughter, with worry. She grabbed her little face with both her freezing hands, "Go with Aunt Sansa. I'll be with you in a minute."

"No!" Charlotte protested, "I want to be with you."

With pleading eyes, Arya looked behind her to see the people who came after her. Her eyes met Ser Davos's, sending a silent message.

"Lord Gendry," the Onion Night called, "Why don't you join me in the forge. They made some upgrade since you've last seen it," he walked across the yard and grabbed Gendry by the arm, guiding him away from the rest, still looking dumbfounded.

Once they were gone, Arya swooped up Charlotte into her arms and carried her inside the castle.

"Arya," the Queen's stern voice followed her in the halls.

"Later," the she-wolf scowled.

"Arya," she called louder this time, "Would you please stop."

Her orders were ignored. She didn't even notice that Jon was following right behind them.

Once inside her chambers with Charlotte still in her arms, Arya slammed the door shut leaving her siblings speechless on the other side of the door.

"Arya?"

Sansa knocked on the wooden door of her sister's chambers. She had waited, but waiting for another day is too much. With her boiling suspicion, she had to confront her sister because she knows she wouldn't be able to sleep that night.

Arya had asked for Marie to bring their supper up in her chambers, where she ate with Charlotte. She spent the rest of the day, locked up with her daughter, doing her best to distract her.

After another knock, there was still no answer. Sansa slowly pushed the door with enough opening for her to peek inside. She could see the back of her sister as she looked out on the window.

"Arya," she whispered again, pushing the door wider for her to enter. Once inside, she noticed the sleeping girl on the featherbed. It seemed like Charlotte wasn't able to keep her promise to not sleep on her mother's bed again.

The younger Stark didn't move from her space. She waited until her sister was standing beside her by the window before she spoke.

"Go on. Say it," though Arya didn't sound so encouraging, but instead she sounded defensive. Her cold gaze staring out on the breezing night, “I once told Jon that you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met… So?”

Sansa had her eyes on her finger, playing with her nails, a new habit she had learned. She felt guilty that she had to interrogate Arya about Charlotte again. But she’s family. She cares for her family more than anything.

The Queen heaved a sigh, “Gendry. She’s Charlotte’s father,” it was not a question but a statement. She studied Arya’s face silently as she waited for a response. 

“Yes,” Arya replied without hesitation. There’s no reason to deny that now. She knows that Sansa had put the bits of pieces together.

The Queen was stunned with her sister’s blunt answer. Weeks ago she didn’t even want to think about it and now she seemed like she doesn’t even care if Sansa knows about everything.

“Will you tell him?” Sansa asked carefully.

“No.”

“Arya! He has the right to know. You’ve kept this long enough from him,” she sounded more like her mother than her sister with the way she hissed the words out of her mouth.

Looking austerely to her sister, “He’ll know. He’ll find out on his own,” Arya said calmly.

** _The Godswood of Winterfell_ **

“What about this one, Princess?” Ser Davos picked the twig and showed it to the little girl who was also looking around in the grounds of the Godswood.

The day after the Baratheon party arrived, Arya made sure that Charlotte was either with her or with the people she trusted and that’s only a handful of people, including Ser Davos. If Gendry wanted to talk to her she would be at ease to know that Charlotte wouldn’t be there but with people who will understand the situation. And if Charlotte is with her when that happens, she knows she’ll find a way to get things done.

“Nuh-uh,” Charlotte shook her head and walked away from the old man.

They have been spending their afternoon in the Godswood looking for sticks to be used as _swords_ so they could _train _with Ser Brienne or Ser Pod. Charlotte had earned a special place in the old man’s heart with her Arya-like wit and Gendry-like benevolence.

“This one,” Charlotte showed him a stick, almost as long as her arm but twice as skinny.

“Well that’s a nice one. That’s perfect. Can I have it?” Ser Davos asked playfully and the little girl shook her head, “But that’s a good one.”

“Ser Davos, this is too small for you.”

“No. It’ll be enough,” he teased on.

Charlotte understood where this conversation was going. She giggled loudly before running away from her companion.

“Come on, Princess,” Ser Daavos faked whined. “That’ll work perfectly for me,” he chuckled to himself and ran after the little princess.

“No! This is mine!” with a big fat smile on her face, she ran as fast as she could to get inside the castle and plan to look for her mother so she could hide away from her new favourite playmate, without noticing the person walking towards them. She bumped to the figure, expecting to see her mother looking for her and ready to save her. Instead, she stared at the same blue eyes as hers. Her expression quickly mirrored his, terror.

Ser Davos cleared his throat to steal the man’s attention away from the girl and called for Charlotte when Gendry dropped down on one knee to see the little princess closely.

“What’s your name?” he never sounded so heedful in his life, though Ser Davos could distinguish the nervous quiver in his voice.

Charlotte looked behind her to ask permission from Ser Davos to answer the man. She received a small nod from the Onion Knight. There was nothing wrong with giving him her name and the Master of Ships intends to keep it that way, especially without Arya’s consent.

“My name is Charlotte…” she studied the person and took note of how he was dressed finely, Highborn she realized, “My Lord.”

“Charlotte,” Gendry repeated quietly, his eyes not leaving the little girl. His brows furrowed as he continued to be stupefied by Charlotte.

And then realization struck him. Those bright blue eyes are like replicas of his own and the dark locks reminded him of a King who happened to be his father. Her brows, as thick as the brows of the woman he loves, she’s even got her button nose and pursed lips.

This was the little girl Ser Brienne was teaching how to spar. The girl Arya called and the girl who ran to her arms. There were more creases building on the forehead of the Lord of Storms End. His mouth ran dry, his hands clamped, his folded knee started to tremble and he's begun to feel dizzy too.

With the all power left in him, he asked, "May I know the name of your mother, little Charlotte?"

Ser Davos marched towards the two, "Lord Gendry, I have to take her inside now."

But before Gendry could react, Charlotte was already running away from him, "Mama!" she called. She was quick to be in her mother's possessive arms. Arya ignored Gendry and Ser Davos, her eyes were for her daughter.

"Did you have fun with Ser Davos, Choti?" she asked as she brushed away the strands of hair that was falling away on the little Princess's face.

Charlotte nodded eagerly and showed her mother the stick that she was gripping.

"You got yourself a new sword?" Arya noted playfully.

Gendry was back on his feet, staring at Arya and Charlotte as they conversed.

"Ser Davos, would you mind taking Charlotte inside the castle? Marie's looking for her," Arya's friendly manner surprised the old man but took Charlotte by the hand anyway, "I'll see you in a minute Choti." She kissed her daughter's forehead and watched as the pair left the Godswood, leaving her and Gendry alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Gendry knows?
> 
> Not a very long chapter, don't kill me. :)  
I promise to update tomorrow with a longer chapter.  
Lavyah! <3


	7. Chapter 7

** _The Godswood of Winterfell_ **

Arya noticed how Gendry swallowed a big lump of saliva. He stood still in front of her with fists closed, jaws tightly clenched and a hundred of emotions painted all over his face. He felt betrayed. He felt angry. He felt sorry.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the rage in his voice echoed in the woods. His inner Baratheon fury seeping out on him as Arya walked closer.

"Why should I?" she asked calmly.

"Because I'm her father! I deserved to know!" if there was another soul within a hundred feet from them, Gendry was sure they could hear him. But thankfully, with the sun starting to set, no one would be walking in on them.

"How are you sure?" Arya's unbending expression didn't seem to bother him. This was the face of Arya the faceless man, not the Arya who he spent years with running away from the Lannisters, and her words confused him.

"What?"

"How are you sure that you're her father?"

Gendry could hit a wall and shatter them into a million pieces with his hammer, if there was one near by. The question was stupid. As stupid as Arya's decision to hide his daughter away from him, he thought.

"I'm not an idiot!" he raised his voice again; "Do you think I'd miss those blue eyes that are exactly like mine? Or her hair? Or how she runs the same way I ran away from the Lannister soldiers?" he gestured towards the castle where Charlotte was probably at the moment. "I didn't miss how my heart stopped when I look at her. Like..." Lord Gendry stopped himself from saying more.

He sounded out of breath, maybe because of his anger Arya thought. She also noticed the last word he spoke.

"Like what?" she taunted, "Like how you look at me?"

"Arya..." Gendry's voice softened when he saw the sad look on her face, like she was recalling their time together when they were still young but then the red woman came and took him away from her and when they saw each other again in Winterfell with death waiting for them to be apart again. Though death didn't succeed, Arya had other plans, plans she had made before Gendry asked the question, before he was the Lord of Storm's End.

When Gendry went speechless, Arya broke the silence.

"Yes, she's your daughter," she said coldly.

The feeling when he realized that Charlotte was his daughter was more different than being told by Arya. It felt truer. More real. Running a hand over his face, “I was a bastard most of my life and you think I want my own child to be like me?! I never knew what it’s like to be loved by a father, Arya. And it’s not a good feeling thinking that your own blood doesn’t love you, doesn’t want you to be in their life.”

He rolled his shoulders, “I know that’s how fucking Robert felt because he never gave a damn to his bastards. But not me, I’m not him,” he shook his head to show her he really meant what he said.

"So what now?" this time Arya asked heatedly. Gendry's confused look made her elaborate her question, "Are you going to ask Bran to legitimize her? Make her heir to Storm's End and take her to the Stormlands?" The look on her face reminded him of the time they were with the Brotherhood. When Lord Beric failed to kill the Hound and Arya wanted to kill him personally. But Arya didn't want to kill him. It was the thought of having Charlotte away that killed her.

"I didn't say that, we will talk about it. We have time, " Gendry said defensively, "I don’t care if she doesn’t have my name and you know I don’t care about names and titles.”

“Well, look at you now,” Arya countered sarcastically.

“You think I’m happy with this,” he gestured to himself, “You think I’m satisfied with my life right now?” Gendry scoffed mockingly.

Arya stared at him in disbelief. Does he really want to be a part of Charlotte’s life? This stupid bull who chose the Brotherhood over her, the man who proposed to her thinking she’d want to be the Lady of Storm’s End?

“All I want right now is for Charlotte to know that she has a father," he pointed a finger at himself, "That _I _am her father."

And as Arya was about to argue, Ser Davos came back, running breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, Arya," he glanced at Arya then at Gendry, "Lad. But we couldn't find Princess Charlotte. The Queen had sent out her men to look for her."

Without a word, Arya and Gendry went running. Ser Davos emitted a nervous sigh and ran after them.

When Arya and Gendry arrived on the courtyard, they found the Queen in the North, The King of the Six-Kingdoms and Lord Tyrion, looking anxious.

“What happened?” Arya asked, perturbed.

The Queen hurriedly walked to her sister with tears of worry on her eyes, “Marie asked her to wait by the practice yard while she went to the kitchen to get her supper. Charlotte insisted on waiting for you. She wouldn’t get inside the castle without you,” her voice trembled as she explained the situation.

“When she came back, Charlotte was gone so she looked for her. When she couldn’t find her, she came to me and told me what happened,” she took both Arya’s hands, “Don’t worry. Jon and the rest are looking for her,” she added quickly, trying to sound confident but her tears betrayed her. She then noticed Gendry, standing beside Arya looking as miserable as her sister and Ser Davos had caught up with the crowd.

“Fetch my horse!” Arya demanded to the guard standing near them.

“Where are you going?” Lord Tyrion asked.

“I’m not going to stand here not knowing the whereabouts of my daughter,” Arya retorted harshly as she took the reins of her horse from the stableman.

Everyone moved to make way for her. Gendry called for his men too when they heard the cold voice, “How do you know she’s out there?” the Three-Eyed Raven said to no one specifically. “She’s her father’s daughter.”

And those who knew of Charlotte’s father turned their eyes on him. It only took the Lord of Storm’s End a second to understand Bran’s words. Ignoring the stares and yells from the others, Gendry ran. He ran to his home in Winterfell.

“Tongs!” a young boy handed the soot-covered man a pair of tongs.

“Aren’t you heading home to your wife, Garry?” another blacksmith asked the man who picked up some metal from the forge.

“Later, I want to finish this helm today,” Garry answered.

“Hammer!”

“Pack them up!”

Those were the howling words Gendry heard as he entered the Winterfell forge. He searched around the busy men; some were trying to finish their work for the day while others were already packing up and ready to go home to their families.

He scanned the busy smithy with his eyes and let out a relieved sigh when he noticed the little girl sitting quietly on top of a workbench in a corner. Her eyes were sparkling with interest and amazement as she watched the men work. Gendry couldn’t help but grin when he noticed Charlotte patted her hand on the surface of the workbench in a steady rhythm as she observed a man pounding on the anvil.

He just stood there, admiring his daughter not noticing Arya was already beside him, following his gaze.

“What is she doing?” the she-wolf asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied, still a smile on his face and eyes on Charlotte.

The two of them walked slowly to the little girl, Charlotte clumsily hopped off from where she sat when she saw her mother, calling, “Mama!”

Arya took her in her arms, holding her tight. She thought she had lost her. It never came to her or anyone to look in the forge. Why would a little girl be sitting there, watching the smiths work on their steel? And then Bran’s words kept repeating in her head; _she’s her father’s daughter._

“What are you doing here, Choti?” she asked, Gendry looking over them longingly.

Arya crouched down to her daughter’s level, ignoring Gendry who did the same.

“They took Ser Brienne’s Oathkeeper so I followed them,” Charlotte replied prickly.

“They took it to-“

“To make it look better,” the little Princess cut her mother off. A grin of amusement grew on the she-wolf’s face, astounded to see that her daughter had been observing.

“That’s right,” Arya said.

Charlotte narrowed her gaze to the silent man beside her mother. Arya understood the questioning look. She knows Gendry was eager to be introduced to his daughter. There’s no turning back now, not when Gendry already knows and Charlotte can sense that something’s going on. Gendry’s pleading look was the turning point.

That’s it, she thought. _It’s time._

“Come, Choti. We have to tell you something very important,” she took her daughter’s hand and the three of them walked away from the Winterfell forge.

The three strode silently as they went up to Charlotte's chambers, ignoring the curious eyes of the people they passed by, including the pleased look on the Queen in the North. As soon as the door was closed, Arya sat Charlotte on the center of the featherbed as she sat on the edge and Lord Baratheon stood with enough distance beside her, looking anxious.

The two adults could sense the same emotion from the child forcing Arya to get it over with the conversation as soon as possible.

With a heavy sigh, she started, "Do you remember the story of the Pack, Choti?" Charlotte nodded meekly to her mother. "Well do you remember who the members of the Pack are?"

Charlotte looked confused at her mother's question.

As they sailed through the seas, ever since Charlotte could understand words Arya would tell her the story of the Pack. A tale that the Princess loved to listen to as her mother retells the story almost every night.

"Papa wolf, Mama wolf and their six pups," Charlotte recalled. Arya beamed at her proudly.

"That's right. And do you remember what they like to do?"

The little Princess thought for a minute, Arya waited patiently as Gendry looked a bit uncertain as to where these questions were headed to.

"The pups like to play together. They run around and chew on their brothers and sisters' heads but it is only a game," Charlotte answered smilingly.

"You're right, my love," Arya patter her head. "And what about Papa wolf and Mama wolf?"

Charlotte's eyes twinkled as she cheerfully said, "Papa wolf looks after the Pack; that the Pack has food and a house. He protects the family and plays with the pups!"

"You're right again, Choti. And what else?" Arya encouraged.

The implicit expression never left the little girl's face as she continued, "And Mama wolf takes care of the pups. She feeds them and guides them and helps them and also plays with them like Papa wolf."

Arya turned to Gendry to see his reaction. He never adored anyone in his life this way. As he listened to Charlotte's replies, he felt guilty that he wasn't there to see her as a baby and witness Arya tell this story. He felt sorry that he couldn't be there to put her to bed and tell his own stories. But maybe he can, if this goes well.

"And do you remember that question you asked mama one night when you were feeling sad after leaving Sauja and her family?"

Charlotte thought hard. Understanding that her daughter was still young to remember some things, Arya continued, "You asked me, how come in our Pack there is only the two of us. You asked why mama has to do everything while Sauja's mother does the same things as mama wolf and her father does everything the papa wolf does," Arya reminded. She couldn’t help but reminisce that night.

They found land after being in the sea for four months. The locals there were kind and hospitable. They gave Arya and her people shelter and let them stay on their land for as long as they liked. They had resources to spare, they said. In that small place, Arya met a small family of three who welcomed her and Charlotte into their home as they stayed there. The couple's daughter, Sauja was as young as Charlotte and grew close to the family. Though she was still very young, she was also very inquisitive.

"I asked why I don't have a Papa wolf like Sauja," it was not only Arya who was tearing up, but also the little one, "You said my Papa couldn’t come and play with me because he is far away," her little rosy lips quivered as she repeated her mother's answer to her that night. Gendry was about to move, instinctively wanting to comfort her as he himself was getting emotional. But he stopped himself before he could move closer to Charlotte remembering that the girl still doesn't know why he was there.

Arya stretched her arms, beckoning her daughter to move closer. Charlotte sat on her mother's lap and encircled her still short arms on her neck, Arya enveloped her petite body with a comforting embrace.

They were in silence for a moment as Arya hushed the weeping Princess. Once she couldn't hear any more sobs, she took the little girl's face from her shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Choti, there is no more reason to cry," though her eyes were still filled with tears, failing her words, "I told you I'd take you to a very special place. A place where you would find more of our Pack, remember?"

Charlotte nodded and started to enumerate, "In Winterfell. Aunt Sansa, Uncle Jon, Uncle Bran, Ghost, Ser Brienne, Ser Davos, Tormund, Hot Pie, Maester Sam, Lady Gilly, Little Sam, Lord Tyrion, Ser Pod..." Arya chuckled as Charlotte was running out of breath and just naming almost everyone she had met.

"And there's one more, Choti," Arya said softly as she moved her gaze towards the wordless Lord.

Gendry looked uneasy as Charlotte looked up at him. He returned Arya's gaze, asking permission if he could move closer. Arya nodded lowly.

She forced a smile on her face as Gendry went down on one knee as he did earlier that day in the Godswood.

"Charlotte, your papa wolf is here. Lord Gendry is your father and he's here to meet you," Arya couldn't help her voice from sounding so small and from shuddering.

"Lord Gendry?" the little Princess repeated the name sheepishly, earning nods from Arya and Gendry. She looked at her mother then Lord Gendry, looking confused again. "But he asked for my name? And mama's name?"

Arya finally understood where the confusion was from. She had to give a quick answer without revealing that her father never knew she existed not until a few hours ago.

"Because he never knew your face, Choti. He had to ask if it is really you," Arya reasoned out.

"So my Papa wolf is Lord Gendry?" Charlotte asked slowly, looking over to the man who's smiling from ear to ear.

Carefully he took one of Charlotte's small hands to his own and held it lovingly and said, "Yes, something like that."

Arya felt a pang of hurt seeing this. She knew she was being selfish when she made the decision of keeping their Pack as small as possible. She tried her best to keep this from him because she didn't want her daughter to feel the same way she felt when one by one her family was taken away from her. What if one day Gendry doesn't want to be a father to Charlotte anymore? Would it feel the same way when the Lannisters killed her father? What if Gendry finds a Lady to marry and have his own family, will he abandon her?

She doesn't want that for her daughter.

But as she forced herself to believe that her decision was what’s best for Charlotte, she couldn’t help the pain that builds in her heart whenever Charlotte asked about her Papa wolf. Or when she’d talked about the father of her friends and how their family is different from theirs.

She briskly stood up, carrying Charlotte, forcing Gendry to let go of the hand he was holding.

Bewildered, the Lord of Storm's End asked, "Where are you going?"

"Charlotte hasn't eaten supper yet," she shuffled her daughter in her arms.

"Have you had supper..." Charlotte contemplated on what to call Gendry. She just stared at him shyly when she couldn't finish her question.

"I'll just have my supper in my chambers," he bowed his head low as the pair left Charlotte's room.

It was obvious that Arya wasn't still comfortable with the situation, and so was he. He'd try but he won't push, not if it will only make Charlotte back away from him... and Arya too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think the relationship between Gendry and Charlotte will be like? And I hope Arya was able to express some of her sentiments in this chapter. 
> 
> Again, I'm so grateful for your love and support. Wheeeew!   
As a newbie, I'm learning a lot from your comments, so thank you! <3


	8. Chapter 8

** _Winterfell_ **

“You’re up early,” Ser Davos gave a knowing grin when he noticed the Lord of Storm’s End in the dining hall, eating alone.

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” the Lord replied with a mouthful. He may be a Lord of a Holdfast, but deep down he’s still the young lad from the street of steel in Flea Bottom.

There’s no one else in the hall except for him and Ser Davos, there was no need for formalities.

“Kept thinking about your family?”

“Kept thinking about my daughter who looks away when she sees me,” Gendry watched as Ser Davos filled his plate with food.

The news that Charlotte had been told about her father hasn’t spread out to the common folk, only those who already knew and those who were close to Charlotte’s parents were aware. Gendry was thankful for that. He doesn’t want more prying eyes on him but also, Arya has been avoiding him and Charlotte’s still shy around him.

“I’m glad you came,” said Ser Davos sincerely.

Gendry stopped from cutting his bread and caught Ser Davos’s gaze, “I don’t want to miss my chance to true happiness,” his smile was so genuine, Ser Davos returned the look.

“I also needed to know,” he added.

“Know what?”

“If she truly doesn’t feel the same way,” he simply responded, “You know I’d do anything for her Ser Davos. I won’t mess this up, especially now that I’ve met Charlotte. I’ll do anything for both of them.”

Unbeknownst to them, the she-wolf of Winterfell heard their short conversation and was scurrying back up her chambers, away from the dining hall.

After breaking their fast, Ser Davos joined Gendry for a walk to the forge. Whenever he felt the pressure was starting to get heavy on his shoulders again and doubt his Lordship or when he felt glum or crestfallen, the singing of the steel whenever his hammer would hit it would always make him feel better. This was one of those days that he needed to pound on something.

The two were talking about the progress of Storm’s End when they noticed Arya practicing her water dance in the yard. Gendry couldn’t help but look at her with admiration. He isn’t sure if she hadn’t seen them or she’s just ignoring him again as she continued to move flawlessly. Out in the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte still in her sleeping clothes. She was holding a practice sword and was gawking at her mother and slowly copied her.

When Gendy and Ser Davos moved closer, Charlotte froze for a moment, “Good morning, Princess,” the old man greeted.

Finally, Arya stopped what she was doing and gave the men a nod of greeting.

“Good morning, Ser Davos,” Charlotte walked to him, expecting a pat on the head which is something Ser Davos loves to do.

She raised her eyes to her father and timidly greeted him too, “Good morning, papa.”

Gendry never thought he’d hear someone call him that. It has only been two days since they’ve told Charlotte. When she first called him Papa, he knew he’ll never get tired of hearing that from her. It would always make his heart flutter, listening to her sweet voice.

He hesitated but built up the courage to bend and place a soft peck on his daughter’s head, “Good morning, little one.”

Noticing Arya’s cold eyes, he took a step back and smiled awkwardly to Charlotte.

“Are you practicing with your mama?” Charlotte nodded. “Well, I hope one day you’ll become a great warrior like her,” the little girl smiled happily to that comment given by her father.

Arya was about to protest but Gendry was quick to walk away, not wanting to argue with her so early in the morning.

“Where are you going?” Charlotte called after her father.

“The forge,” he answered and turned to the corner with Ser Davos, leading to the smithy, leaving the wide-eyed little Princess.

She ran to her mother and shoved the practice sword to her hand then dashed off.

Baffled, Arya cried out for her, “Where are you going?”

“To papa!” the little girl shouted back without giving a single glance to her mother.

“It’s not a place for children,” her voice faded in defeat, Charlotte had turned to the corner.

** _Winterfell Forge_ **

Gendry had just draped his cloak on the nail by the wooden pillar and picked up some metal, studying it, when he heard rushed footsteps.

Ser Davos who was leaning on a workbench, stood straight, “Princess Charlotte,” he gasped.

Gendry dropped the metal and walked swiftly to his daughter, “What are you doing here, little one?” his brows furrowed in surprise.

“What are you doing here, papa?” Charlotte threw the question back. The two men couldn’t help but chuckle at the rascal retort.

“I’m about to forge some steel,” Gendry raised his brows playfully and watched the interest build up on his daughter’s eyes.

“Can I help?” the little princess asked hopefully.

Gendry considered it for a moment but thought otherwise, “I’ll let you watch.”

Thankfully, Charlotte didn’t insist and just nodded eagerly. She took Ser Davos’s inviting hand and led her to the workbench where he was leaning earlier and placed her on top. Charlotte crossed her legs, elbows on top of them as she cradled her face with her hands. She watched as her father kept the heat in the forge, walking around picking tools and steel. She followed his every move with curious eyes, her father conversing with Ser Davos as he worked. Gendry heated a good-sized metal and smiled when he saw Charlotte’s comfortable position. As the day starts, the smiths of Winterfell started to arrive. Their eyes widen when they saw the Lord of Storm’s End, the Master of Ships and the little Princess. They bowed and showed their respects as they started to work. Gendry had to remind them not to mind their presence. Besides, he once worked there.

Once the metal was ready, he took it out and started to pound on it, shaping it to the way he wanted. When he had his first blow on the anvil, Charlotte’s hands flew to her ears, covering them though a grin grew on her precious face.

Gendry noticed and laughed, “Is it loud?” he asked.

“Yes,” Charlotte giggled, “But I like it,” the other blacksmiths who heard the comment laughed at the little princess. She looked over them and laughed along.

Almost an hour later, Ser Davos excused himself saying he had to meet the king, “Come along now, Princess,” he motioned for Charlotte to take his hand and hop off the bench.

“Can I stay here with papa?” she pleaded. Her blue eyes moved from Ser Davos to her father.

A couple of smiths heard her plea, looking intrigued and Gendry didn’t miss the nosy eyes but chose to ignore them.

He nodded to Ser Davos indicating that it was fine to leave Charlotte with him. The Onion Knight let off a defeated sigh, patted the head of the princess and left the smithy, “See you later, lad.”

Once Ser Davos was out of sight, the pleading eyes were quickly washed away, flickering with thrill as she watched not just her father but the other blacksmiths move efficiently as they worked.

A couple of hours had passed; Gendry noticed how Charlotte was starting to look jaded. Thankfully, a thought came to mind, “Little one,” he called.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you come here and help me out,” the little princess’s face suddenly lit up. She quickly leaped off the bench and ran to her father.

He kicked a stool to the front of his workbench and helped Charlotte stand on it as he stood behind her. Gendry had just finished carving up a pommel and now, with his daughter’s help, they’re about to smooth it out.

“Here,” he held out the pommel and Charlotte took it from his hand. He took the little girl’s right hand and carefully led it through the rough areas of the pommel.

“Can you feel that, little one?” Charlotte nodded, “We need to make it smooth,” he held out a sand paper and Charlotte took it.

He wrapped one of his hands to Charlotte’s that’s holding on to the pommel to steady the wooden object as the other one guided the small hand with the sand paper. Slowly, the two ran their hands through it, turning it from side to side making sure that there aren’t any rough areas left and it’s well polished.

Charlotte never left her eyes from the pommel, seeming to enjoy the little activity. It didn’t take long for them to finish their job.

“Are there more?” the little princess asked excitedly.

Not expecting that from his daughter, Gendry had to think of other ways to entertain her. Looking around, he saw another smith who had just finished carving a pommel. He called for the young man and asked if he could finish it for him. Of course, he said yes, though he was taken aback by the request of the Lord of Storm’s End.

And so, they smoothed out their second pommel of the day.

“Be careful now, you’re about to scrape papa’s hand,” Gendry playfully warned when Charlotte rubbed the sand paper close to his fingers. The little princess only giggled, enjoying herself as she teased her father.

“Seems like someone’s having fun?” the two halted their movements when they heard Arya. Charlotte excitedly jumped off the stool to show her mother her handy work.

“Look mama! I helped papa polish a pommel,” she handed Arya the wood that she’s been polishing.

“Wow, that look’s amazing, Choti,” she took the pommel and studied it. “We need to eat now, aren’t you famished?”

“Nuh-uh,” Charlotte shook her head.

Arya eyed Gendry and he just returned it with a shrug.

“I think the little dragons inside are hungry,” Arya bent down to playfully poke on the little girl’s stomach, earning her a sweet giggle.

She turned to her father and handed him back the pommel. Then, she grabbed his hand and started pulling away, “Come on papa. Let’s eat,” the little girl invited.

Gendry’s eyes showed panic. Arya’s too. They both looked at each other not sure what to do with their daughter’s invitation.

They never really ate together and if they do, Arya and Charlotte would be at the high table while Gendry would sit with the rest of Bran’s small council.

Gendry awkwardly smiled at Charlotte, “I’ll eat later with the others. You go ahead with your mother.”

“But I want to eat with you,” the little girl was starting to whine, slowly catching interest from the other men in the forge.

Arya dropped on one knee and clutched on her daughter’s arms, “Charlotte, it’s time for you to eat. I’ll be there with you.”

“But I want papa!” Charlotte wailed.

“Charlotte!” Arya was starting to lose her patience and hissed, not wanting the attention they were starting to get.

Charlotte squirmed away from her mother and ran to her father, wrapping her small arms around his legs. They could hear the sobs and the pleading, “Please papa. I want to eat with you.”

Gendry eyed Arya.

She didn’t look happy. She marched towards them and was about to pull Charlotte away from him when Gendry stopped her, “I’ll eat with her,” he said intensely.

Arya’s brows furrowed almost touching together, “What?”

“I’ll eat with her,” Gendry repeated, more firmly this time.

He took Charlotte in his arms and walked passed Arya, leaving the furious wolf in the forge.

As soon as Gendry and Charlotte arrived in the dining hall, all eyes turned to them as everyone was already eating their meals. He was still carrying the little princess who was hiding her face on her father’s shoulder. Gendry gave acknowledging nods to the highborns as he sat Charlotte on the space beside his and Ser Davos’s.

“What happened?” the Onion Knight asked in a small voice when he saw the paint of tears on the girl’s cheeks.

“Wouldn’t want to eat without me,” he whispered back.

And just then, Arya marched in.

She ignored him when she passed by and sat on her usual seat beside the Queen.

Sansa eyed her sister who was busy staring at her daughter and Gendry.

They continued on with their meal almost without saying a word. Gendry would admit that he did not know what he was doing; thankfully, Ser Davos was there to help him with Charlotte.

“Can we go to the Godswood, papa?” Charlotte asked after having her last bite.

“What do you want to do there, little one?”

“Find new swords.”

Gendry locked eyes with Ser Davos asking for an explanation.

“Princess Charlotte loves to practice with her _swords_ which you can find in the grounds of the Godswood,” Ser Davos filled in.

That’s when Gendry understood the request. He smiled to his little girl and helped her out of her seat.

The little Princess held on to her father’s hand and walked out of the hall and paid no attention to Arya’s burning glare.

** _The Godswood of Winterfell_ **

“She’s just jealous, you know,” Gendry looked up to see Jon Snow walking towards them.

He was sitting on a big log with Charlotte; the little girl furrowed her brows, choosing her _sword_ for the day.

Jon patted the little girl on the head earning him a sweet smile in return. He sat beside Gendry with a grunt.

“What do you mean?”

Jon gave a low chuckle, “Tormund once said you are not that smart. But I think he’s wrong.”

Gendry looked at him, sill a bit offended and confused.

“I think you’re smart, just stupid,” Jon said with a smirk.

“So I’ve been told,” the Lord of Storm’s End shook his head remembering the person who’d always call him that.

“Arya’s just jealous that Charlotte wants to spend time with you than her,” the men had their eyes on the little girl, who was now walking around in front of them looking for more twigs.

“She’s used to having Charlotte for herself and now you’re here,” Jon added.

“I’m not going to take her away,” he wouldn’t do that to Charlotte. He couldn’t take him away from her own mother.

“Then what are you going to do?”

Gendry let out a deep breath and thought for a moment, “I don’t know.”

Jon clapped him in the back, making him face the man.

“So far, you’re doing a great job at being a father.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because she’s already got you wrapped around her little finger,” Jon grinned at him. “But you need to do something with my sister, ‘cause it’s making me uncomfortable seeing her this way.”

“Like what?” Gendry asked, puzzled.

“Like she couldn’t choose between stabbing you or groping you…. Or both,” Jon shoved him lightly and stood up with a chuckle, “Come Charlotte. Let’s go find Ghost,” he gestured for the little girl to hold his hand.

Charlotte shoved her collected twigs to her father’s hand and ran to her Uncle Jon, “Bye papa!” she waved to her still stunned father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I don't usually post this late. I'm very sorry. Shit happens, you know. Don't worry I'll try to post earlier next time, no promises though. And your comments just lifts me up so thank you! A lot. I'm serious. Lavyah! <3
> 
> To make it up to you; while I was in a crappy situation last week I wrote an angsty one-shot (To Be Alive) so go check it out. I was an emotional mess when I wrote it, explains a lot.
> 
> Anyways, back to business... What do you think will Gendry do? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

** _Wolfswood, The North_ **

There had to be a little commotion before they could head off to celebrate the little princess’s fifth name-day.

Charlotte insisted that she ride with her father on his horse while her mother denied the request, saying that Gendry is not used to riding with a child. Because it’s her name-day, Charlotte’s wish was forcefully accepted by her mother. Of course there was more than that. She had to argue with Sansa demanding that they should reduce the number of guards and soldiers with them. Thankfully, Gendry only asked three of his men to come with them and Lord Tyrion declared that there’s no need for him to have guards because Bronn would be accompanying them, earning him a glower from the former Knight and now Lord of the Reach.

Though, Arya should have expected that it would take a troop for them to journey the forests safely. Even though Bran stayed in Winterfell with Ser Pod and Lord Royce, the rest of his council was joining them in the Wolfswood along with Jon, Tormund, Ghost and Hot Pie.

The ride to the frozen lake was full of chatter and a lot of laughter from the little Princess. She’d point out at animals she’d caught with her eyes and giggled when Ghost would try to chase them. The Lords would talk about how much the North had changed while Tormund kept Ser Brienne annoyed with his adventures over the wall and Hot Pie and Maester Sam are immersed in their conversation about food. Jon would sometimes ride beside Sansa, trying to keep his sister entertained while she side eyed Arya who seemed to be the only one who’s not enjoying the trip so far.

“Why is she like that?” she hissed to Jon, “It’s her daughter’s name-day and she’s acting like she’s the child,” the Queen scowled.

Jon only chuckled knowingly, a grin plastered on his face, “Let her be. I bet it won’t last long.”

“Are you turning into a Three Eyed-Raven too?” Sansa jaded.

“No. But I know my sister. I don’t have to be a Three Eyed-Raven to know why she’s acting this way,” he raised his eyebrows playfully to his sister. The Queen just rolled her eyes at him.

When their horses had led them to a clearing, the frozen lake took view. Everyone heard the gasp from the little Princess and they all smiled at each other, their fondness of her showing on all their faces.

As they got nearer to the frozen lake, Charlotte couldn’t help but ask, “What is that?”

Gendry softly placed a kiss on top of her head, “That’s a frozen lake, little one,” he said softly.

Once they were near enough, they were quick to be on their feet.

Charlotte ran to her mother and pulled her excitedly, “Mama, let’s go!”

Arya couldn’t help her heart from fluttering. It was a good decision taking Charlotte into the frozen lake. Though she’d seen many lakes before during their travels, they never encountered a frozen one.

When they passed by Gendry who was studying the ice, Charlotte gripped on his arm and tried to pull him along with them.

“Come, papa!” she happily tugged on his sleeve.

Arya and Gendry uneasily eyed each other before allowing themselves to be led by their daughter.

The minute they stepped on the ice, Charlotte let out a screech but was then followed by laughter. She realized what she could do as they stood on top of the lake. Holding on to her parents, she glided her feet on the ice until they reached the center.

“Here,” Gendry offered his hands and Charlotte happily took them. He slowly pulled her from her place, letting her slide on the frozen water.

“Be careful now, you might hurt yourself,” Arya warned.

Seeing how happy her daughter was, she unconsciously smiled at the view in front of her.

While the three were already on the ice, the servants started to pull out the stools from the wagon they carried with them so the Lords can go ice fishing. They found themselves a spot and took their seats, rods and buckets surrounding them.

Tormund took out a sled from the wagon and walked to Gendry and Charlotte, Arya still watching over them.

“Here’s a present for you Princess,” the Giantsbane handed the handsome sled.

“What is it?” Charlotte only eyed him curiously.

Jon and Sansa came after them.

“Does she like our present Tormund?” Jon asked.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the Queen didn’t seem too pleased with the gift.

“We’ll see,” proudly, Jon held Charlotte by the hand and led her to the sled, Tormund assisting him while Gendry, Arya and Sansa watched anxiously.

It didn’t take long for them to accept that the sled was the perfect gift for Charlotte. Tormund happily pulled the rope for the little Princess. Sometime he’d let the others try it while Charlotte played with Sansa and Jon. Running, sliding and gliding happily while Ghost barked at them not noticing that Arya had stepped back into the clearing.

She stood by a lightly snow covered tree as she watched her daughter fool around with her Aunt and Uncle. Their other companions enjoying themselves, either fishing or chatting by the small fire the servants had created.

“This was a very nice idea,” Arya didn’t flinch when she heard his voice.

“I guess so,” she replied dryly. “You’ve got what you wanted, Charlotte now knows you’re her father,” she watched as her daughter dived on her belly with Jon, Sansa laughing at them, “But don’t expect this changes anything between us. We’re still-“

“Nothing. I know,” Gendry cut her off sternly and heaved a sigh, “You’re her mother and I’m her father. All we have to do is make decisions for her and take care of her… I know.”

“But what if I don’t agree-“

“Then we will have to,” he turned to look at her. Arya returned the unyielding gaze of Gendry, “We only want the same things for her. We want what’s best for her and keep her safe and happy.”

In all honesty, Arya was surprised by the way Gendry said it. Back then, she is usually the one who interrupts him and always says the sensible words but now it’s the other way around. She never expected this side of him, the same side she never expected she had in herself.

“You’ve changed,” she said, looking back at Charlotte.

“So are you.”

“But I know deep down you’re still the same stupid bull,” her mouth twitched upwards, showing a small sign of smile.

“Not as stupid as you,” Arya had to take moment, the smile torn out of her face. Did she really hear him call her stupid?

“What?” her pissed eyes boring into his serious ones.

“You never said goodbye… After what happened at the Dragon Pit I went looking for you. I did not know you were leaving, maybe I could have-“

“What? Stopped me?”

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me. No one can,” she turned around to walk back to the rest of the crowd but stopped when he heard him speak again.

“But Charlotte did. She made you stop sailing and look where you are now.”

“Then maybe only Charlotte can,” she replied without even turning around to face him.

But Arya knew it was a lie. There’s a reason why she didn’t want to see him before she left Westeros.

** _Winterfell_ **

Hours later, they all packed up to head back to the castle. As expected, tears and bribing had to be involved in the process of convincing the little princess that it was time to go.

Her mother promised her that she could play in the courtyard for the rest of the day even after supper. It was her name-day after all. They had a small feast in the great hall, where now everyone acknowledged Gendry as Charlotte’s father. Murmurs and whispers echoed in the hall and were only hushed by the Queen’s heated gaze. Though they’ve expected that reaction, they never thought it would still be as bothersome as it was.

After finishing her food, Charlotte was back in the yard with Marie while the adults finished their wines. One by one, people started to leave including Jon, Tormund and Ghost.

“I’ll see you on your next visit in Castle Black,” Jon pressed a kiss on the Queens forehead after giving her a tight embrace.

He knelt in front of Bran, bowing, “Safe travels, Your Grace.”

Bran held out a hand to Jon, a gesture he doesn’t usually do, “You can always stay in Winterfell,” Jon took the hand, his wide eyes showed his surprise.

“Your Grace-“

“That is if you wish to,” Bran added.

Jon looked up to Sansa who was mirroring his surprise. She encouragingly nodded, gesturing for him to accept the pardon.

“I will think about it,” Jon replied apprehensively and stood up.

He made his way to Gendry and Ser Davos who were talking in a corner, he hugged both men and bid them goodbye, “Do something about her,” he reminded Gendry who froze anxiously.

“I’ll come visit you in Castle Black someday, Jon,” Ser Davos clapped is back.

“Send a raven first.”

“Walk me out?”

Jon approached Arya from her seat and the two left the crowd, Jon had an arm around his sister’s shoulder, “I’ll miss you, so don’t leave just yet.”

“I won’t.”

“Good, because I still want to see my niece…. With her happy parents.”

“Jon,” Arya stopped in her tracks to face her brother looking annoyed.

He took a breath before speaking, “Look, I only want you to be happy. And I want Charlotte to be happy. Give the man a chance.”

“What do you think am I doing?”

“I think you are pushing him away with your burning stares and rude actions,” Jon carefully replied.

“I’m not rude!” Arya argued.

“Fine, you are not rude. But can you just be nice to him?”

Arya thought for a moment, “I’ll try.”

Jon gave a teasing smile, “Maybe you can even give me a nephew.”

That earned him a punch and a hard one too.

He rubbed his sore abdomen but laughed anyway, “Just give Charlotte two happy parents.”

The she-wolf considered for a while, looking down on her dirty boots, but nevertheless went with it anyway, “He asked me to marry him.”

“I know,” Jon’s quick answer made her snap her eyes at him.

“How?”

“He told me. Right after you rejected his offer,” he replied calmly.

Arya shook her head and went back to looking at her boots.

“He loves you, you know. And I know you do too.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, Arya,” he held her chin and lifted her face to look her in the eyes; “You don’t have to change who you are. You don’t have to be the Lady of Storm’s End just so you could be with your family.”

For the first time in a long time, she let her mind recall the moments she had with Gendry. From the day they met at King’s Landing to the night he saw him leave the Red Keep for Storm’s End. She thought of the flurry in her stomach whenever she looked at Gendry, whenever she stared at him while he played with their daughter. She isn’t sure what it meant, if it’s really what Jon thought it was then now she had something to keep her mind busy.

They walked to the courtyard and found Charlotte playing with a baker’s daughter. Arya told Marie that she could take her rest and told the girl that she should head home to her parents.

Once the three were left alone, Jon went down on his knees to wrap his arms around Charlotte, “I’ll miss you, little Princess,” she kissed her forehead the same way she kissed Sansa, “Look after you mother for me, alright?” the little girl nodded meekly.

He stood up and hugged Arya lovingly and whispered, “Just think about it.”

Arya hugged him tightly not knowing when they’re going to see each other again. She let him kiss her forehead and bid him goodbye.

With that, he left Winterfell with Tormund and Ghost, heading back beyond the Wall.

“When will I see Uncle Jon again?”

“When Aunt Sansa visit’s Castle Black, we’ll go with her.”

“When is that?”

“In a few moon’s turn, Choti,” she guessed. The mother and daughter walked hand in hand as they entered the castle. The Great Hall was empty except for the servants who were cleaning up after the feast and Ser Davos and Gendry who appeared to be discussing something seriously important.

“Queen Sansa is taking care of it as we speak,” Arya heard Ser Davos whisper to the Lord of Storm’s End.

“Taking care of what?” she asked.

Charlotte was quick to stretch her arms out to motion her father to carry her. Arya shook her head; a girl of five shouldn’t be asking to be carried anymore.

Ser Davos side-eyed the Lord, beckoning him to explain it to Arya, himself.

He cleared his throat and shuffled the girl in his arms, “She’s taking care of the supplies I need.”

“Need for what?”

Gendry hesitated for a moment, “I’m leaving for Storm’s End as soon as I can.”

Arya’s brows furrowed in confusion, while Charlotte gasped when she heard the word “leaving” from her father. The sudden tight hold on his neck made Gendry close his eyes, the guilt swallowing his whole body. Out of all days, it had to be on his daughter’s special day.

“Don’t leave, Papa,” the soft sobs shattered his heart. His clutch on the little girl tightened as he ran a hand on her back to sooth her.

“Why are you leaving?” Arya asked.

He took a breath and watched Ser Davos shift on his spot before speaking, “Three ships from the Stormlands are being held hostage by pirates at the Narrow Sea,” he paused for moment, “the Stormlanders needs me.”

“Will Ser Davos be going with you?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

The two men answered in unison. They harshly gazed on each other before the Onion Knight spoke, “I’m the Master of Ships in the Six-Kingdoms. I’ve worked with pirates before; don’t forget who helped your Uncle Stannis to convince pirates to work with him. And remember what the King said; he is in no need for me at the moment.”

Gendry heaved a sigh of defeat, and just nodded. He can’t argue with that, he might really need the help of an expert negotiator. He carefully pulled the arms that were still wrapped around him and held his daughter’s cheek with a hand.

“Papa will be back. And I’ll send a raven as soon as I arrive at Storm’s End,” he bet the pain that he was feeling was the same as his daughter’s. He wiped the tears that were running down her soft rosy cheeks and kissed her forehead, “Let’s get you up in your chambers, it’s getting late.”

With that, he nodded at Ser Davos knowingly and slowly walked up the steps to the solar with Arya quietly following behind.

The moment they arrived at Charlotte’s chambers, Arya helped Gendry change the little girl into her night-clothes and up on her featherbed. Once tucked comfortably under the thick wool, Gendry sat himself on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through her dark locks.

“Is Storm’s End far away?” Charlotte quietly asked.

“Yes, it’s a little far away,” Gendry tried to sound comforting.

“Like Bharata?

“No, I don’t think it’s as far away as Bharata, little one,” the little girl shuffled.

“Can I come with you then?”

Gendry looked behind him where Arya stood with her arms crossed; she had one of those expressions where he couldn’t read her. He turned back to his daughter and stoked her cheek lovingly, “I don’t think that’s possible at the moment, little one.”

“Mama will come with us, right mama?” Gendry though his heart couldn’t shatter more with those hopeful eyes.

Arya walked closer to her with an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, Choti.”

Tears started to brim again on the blue eyes, “Don’t worry. I’ll come back and I will always write to you, you can ask your mother to help you read them,” Gendry said softly.

“And I can always help you write back to your father,” Arya added.

Gendry looked up to her with a silent thank you. He fixed the woollen blankets and kissed the top of the little princess’s head and whispered, “Maybe next time you can come to Storm’s End with your mother… I love you, little one.”

Arya didn’t miss a single word from him nor was the way her daughter held on to her father as if she’ll never see him again. She watched as Charlotte hugged Gendry one more time and said the words back, “I love you too, papa.”

With a heavy heart, Gendry and Arya left Charlotte’s chambers after bidding her good night.

They walked in silence as they headed down to the stables. There, they found Sansa and Ser Davos, watching over the Baratheon soldiers and Stark men prepare for the long travel.

Gendry stopped under the archway, hidden in view from the rest. He was surprised that Arya didn’t move too.

“For a moment, I thought she was going to have a fit,” she said in a low voice.

They both had their eyes on the busy men, trying to endure the breeze of the cold night.

“I hate seeing her like that,” said Gendry.

“Me too,” she glanced up at him and watched him discreetly wipe a tear away, his jaws clenched tightly, “Don’t disappoint her.”

“I won’t,” he replied gravely, “I will send a raven everytime I can and I will come back as soon as the Gods allow me to,” the genuineness in his voice was evident with every word he spoke.

“You better,” Arya took a step forward to move closer to the others but Gendry grabbed her arm.

“Arya,” he spoke of her name tenderly.

She turned to face him and eyed the hand that was still holding her arm. He pulled it away sheepishly and cleared his throat.

“Remind her everyday that I love her, that I’ll come back to her and see her again,” he said sincerely.

She looked him in the eye and saw the pain through them, “I will,” she said. “Don’t break your promise.”

“I won’t,” he said again and she knows he won’t.

“Good. Don’t do anything stupid, bull,” she turned on her heels and joined the Queen and Ser Davos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think will happen now that Gendry's leaving for Storm's End? Do you think he will be able to keep his promise?
> 
> Thank you for the patience. I really appreciate the comments and kudos, you have no idea how much it means to me.  
I hope you liked this one.  
Talk to me here and/or in tumblr, coffeexwhiskey   
Lavyah! <3


	10. Chapter 10

** _Winterfell_ **

“Ready?” the King of the Six-Kingdoms nodded shortly, Sansa gave the top of his head a quick kiss.

It had been almost a moon’s turn since Lord Gendry Baratheon along with Ser Davos and his men rode off to the South. Now, Bran the Broken and his party will be leaving the North too. They all stood in the courtyard as the sun started to rise up, taking over the darkness of the night. Charlotte held her mother’s hand while her other hand rubbed on her sleepy eyes.

“We will see you in King’s Landing when given the chance,” Arya hugged her brother, “What will you say, Choti?”

“Goodbye Uncle Bran,” she waved a hand as she stifled a yawn.

As the others bid their goodbyes, Ser Brienne approached Arya who was busy keeping her daughter awake, “You’ll head back to bed after, Choti. Be patient,” Arya said.

“Princess Arya.”

“You don’t have to call me that.”

Brienne nodded understandingly. Her gaze moved to the little girl who stood quietly by her mother. She smiled sweetly to Charlotte and crouched down to be on her level and took a long object, wrapped in by a cloth from behind her cloak.

“Little Princess, your father never got the chance to give this to you on your name-day,” she motioned for the girl to take the gift. “He made this special for you.”

With her small hands, Charlotte took the gift carefully from her and looked up to her mother with questioning eyes. Arya nodded lightly.

Charlotte unwrapped the gift, making her mother and herself gasp in surprise. It was a smaller version of Needle. Not too small, suitable for a five-year-old little Princess who was starting to learn how to spar.

“Thank you Ser Brienne,” the little girl said without taking her eyes off the sword, the smile on her face growing bigger by the second.

“Don’t thank me, thank your father,” the knight patted her head and stood up straight. “And this is for you, Arya,” she handed the girl’s mother a scroll. “Lord Gendry had specific instructions to give this over to you personally.”

Arya took the letter and thanked her as well.

After the party from the South left the boundaries of Winterfell, everyone went back to start their day with their usual activities while others retreated back to their chambers, Arya and Charlotte did the latter.

“Come on,” Arya patted the featherbed in Charlotte’s room as she sat on one side of it. Her daughter ran to the bed, clumsily climbing on it still grasping the sword her father gave her.

“It’s beautiful, mama, isn’t it?” she proudly showed her mother the blade.

“Yes, it is,” Arya kissed the top of her head and took the sword from her, “We’ll keep it here while you go back to sleep, alright?” she hid it in the drawers beside Charlotte’s bed.

“Can mama stay here for a while?” Arya asked.

“Yes!” Charlotte replied eagerly, “I want papa here too,” the little girl added in a low voice.

Pulling her daughter close, Arya whispered, “He will be back soon and he loves you more than anything, remember that.”

Arya took Charlotte in her arms knowing how much she had missed her father and cuddled her as she waited for sleep to take over the little girl. As soon as she realized that Charlotte’s asleep, she carefully untangled herself from her daughter and anxiously pulled out the scroll that was given to her by Brienne.

_Arya,_

_When you read this letter, I must be travelling back to the Stormlands and King Bran must be leaving. I know it would take some time for me to write to you and Charlotte and so I made sure to write a letter to keep you both from waiting to hear from me._

_I hope you never missed a day of reminding Charlotte how much I love her and that I will return as soon as I can. _

_I never thought that I’d love someone as much as I love Charlotte. She’s the biggest surprise and the best gift I have ever received from you Arya, and I never had the chance to thank you. Thank you for bringing my daughter into this world. Thank you for being there for her when her father can’t. Thank you for showing her what it is like to be truly loved and for allowing her to be true to herself. Thank you for telling me the truth._

_It did anger me when you didn’t tell me about my daughter as soon as you knew that I was back in Winterfell, but I understand you had your reasons. What’s important now is that Charlotte knows that she has a mother and a father who will love her and will do anything and everything for her._

_I know I have been an idiot before and I’ve done things without thinking twice, but there’s still truth to the words that I have said to you the night I asked you to marry me. As soon as I am given the chance to be with you again, I hope that you will allow me to show you that I truly meant what I said that night and I will respect whatever it is that you want. You don’t have to be the Lady of Storm’s End. You don’t have to marry me. I understand that now and maybe that’s the reason why you will always be special to me. I want you to know that after being with you and our daughter there’s only one thing I desire for, and it is to be with you and Charlotte, that will be enough. _

_I don’t need titles, Arya. I only need you both and to be able to give our daughter a family._

_If it will cost me my Lordship and Storm’s End, I will willingly give them up for you and Charlotte. I won’t make the same mistakes again. I have been told that it is not everyday that we are given another chance to true happiness, and you both, are mine. Allow me to be yours._

_I will do everything to be back with you again soon._

_Take care of yourself and the little one. _

_Gendry_

Arya hadn’t even noticed how her trembling hands had clutched on to the parchment, or the warmth of the tears that were pooling in her eyes blurring out her sight neither was the pounding of her heart.

The words danced in her mind in repetition. She quickly brushed an arm on her eyes, not letting the tears fall.

Looking over to the sleeping figure beside her, Arya wished Charlotte was awake to tell her how sorry she was for keeping her away from her father. She hoped she could tell her daughter that she wished she could turn back time and give back the moments she was deprived of. Moments snatched away from her daughter because of her mother’s selfishness and of her pride. Moments that were robbed from Charlotte because she just assumed that Gendry wouldn’t want her. Moments that she could have shared with her father. But she was wrong all along. She was wrong and the only way she can make it up to her daughter was to give her father a chance to be a part of her life.

That’s what she’s been doing, wasn’t she? Letting them have time together.

But Jon was right, she’s been making it difficult for Gendry by pushing him away. Charlotte’s too overwhelmed with having a father that she didn’t even notice the bitterness of her mother’s heart.

Charlotte loves him dearly and she can’t take that away from her.

She was reminded of the night when Charlotte would ask about her papa wolf, how she’d look so dejected after she tried to console her by saying he had to be away. She was also reminded of her daughter’s face when she proudly showed her the pommel she made with her father. And how sorrowful she was when Gendry had to leave for Storm’s End.

They both promised they’d do anything and everything for Charlotte. But what about her? Does it make her a selfish mother if she’s worried about her own child? Her own heart?

Taking another glance on her daughter, she placed a chased kiss on top of her head and carefully left the room to look for Marie, instructing her to take care of Charlotte while she’s away.

After meeting with Marie, she ran back to her own chambers and took out all the things she needed. Once done, she went to the practice yard to take a bow and some arrows then she ran to the stables to fetch her horse.

Without sparing another glance to the busy people who were starting their day, she left the castle and rode off to the woods.

The cold wind brought her to a high. Her emotions heightened her adrenaline, applying more pressure on her leg to encourage her horse to gallop faster. Her hold on the reins were so tight, she could feel her own nails piercing on her palms. Her view of the trees became blurry as a result of her tears brimming in her eyes yet again, but she didn’t care, she dashed deeper into the woods.

Only when she felt tired of trying to hold back, did she stop. Still perched on top of her steed, she let out a cry, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Arya Stark never screamed. Arya Stark never cried this way. But she was different now, and she let herself _be_ different.

Jumping off her horse, she took the bow she brought with her, lined up an arrow allowing it to carry her emotions and released without a target. She did that again and again and again until she ran out of arrows. Still not satisfied, she took out her Catspaw and stabbed the tree nearest to her, and with every hit, she’d let a loud cry to come with it.

She failed. She failed Charlotte and she failed herself. She let her selfishness, her anger, her fear to take over her and now she felt guilty because she was wrong all along.

She was wrong when she thought Gendry proposed to her because he now had titles and lands. Gendry was overwhelmed, he asked the wrong question and instead of facing him and talking to him about it, she left him. The Gendry she knew would retrace those steps and fix it. Because Gendry is thoughtful and kind and caring and sweet and tough and Gendry is a fighter. He’d fight for her if he needed to and she knew it. He’d fight for Charlotte and it ached her heart to think otherwise.

She pushed the dagger deeper on to the tree, realizing how stupid she was to assume that Gendry wouldn’t want Charlotte. And if he did want to have his daughter, he’d take her away from her mother.

But Gendry wouldn’t do that. He may be stubborn but he knows _when_ to be stubborn and not and because Gendry is selfless and he’s not selfish, _not like her_.

What if she told Gendry when she found out she was carrying his babe? Without a doubt, Gendry would drop everything and come after her. Because he loves her, and he loves Charlotte. And she’d let him because Charlotte loves him and _she_ loves him.

Oh, how she loves him.

He never left her, no matter how difficult the situation was when they were at war, he was always there looking out for her….. And she was there for him. He protected her and cared for her and she repaid that by what? By leaving him without a single word.

But maybe she’s been in love with him ever since. It took her all her might to stay away from him as she prepared for her new venture. There was a reason why she avoided him after the meeting at the Dragon Pit. She knew that if Gendry finds out she was leaving, he’d stop her… And she’d let him. But she can’t let those blue eyes delay her from the journey of her dreams.

But Gendry didn’t care that she’d left him without saying goodbye, that’s how much he loves her. He didn’t care that Arya left him or that she hid Charlotte away for years.

She gave a little laugh, dagger still clutched tightly in her left hand. Then her laugh became louder. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him.

_I’m one lucky bitch._

She stayed in the woods until the sun started to come down. For hours and hours, she sat on the cold ground, thinking how stupid she was, how lucky she is for having her family and friends still by her side, for having a sweet and charming daughter and for having someone like Gendry to love her. She wiped tears, screamed some more and laughed to herself until she felt tired. Only when the sharp chill of the air did she picked up the bow she left on the ground, placed Catspaw back on its stealth and rode back to Winterfell.

When she arrived back in the castle she found Sansa and Charlotte in her chambers talking silently as they both sat on her bed, waiting for her.

The little Princess quickly hopped off the featherbed to run to her mother who embraced her with open arms.

“Marie told me you went out to hunt,” Sansa spoke softly, standing up from her place.

“I just needed some air,” she answered still holding Charlotte tightly, inhaling her favourite scent.

Seeing how Arya wanted to spend time with her daughter, she walked slowly out of the room to give them time alone.

“Sansa,” she called as the Queen stopped by the door, “Thank you,” surprised, Sansa hid it with a sweet smile and a courteous nod before leaving the pair.

As soon as Sansa closed the door, Arya carried her daughter to her bed and laid there together, arms wrapped around each other.

“Mama?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you alright?” the little girl peered over to see her mother’s face, looking worried.

Arya though for a moment, running her hand over the girl’s hair, “Mama’s sorry…”

“Why?”

Arya swallowed the lump on her throat and tried to blink out the tears that were forming again on her eyes, “I’m sorry papa wasn’t there when we were on the ship.” She stroke her daughter’s cheek softly with her thumb, “I’m sorry he wasn’t there to see you when you were still a baby and play with you. I wish he was there with us.”

Arya felt her daughter shuffle beside her. Charlotte was sitting up, looking over her mother. Arya never felt so lucky when she felt the cold small fingers brush away the tears on her face, “You said there’s no more reason to cry,” said the little girl.

“These are happy tears, Choti. I’m happy that your papa is here now. Though not hear at the moment but…. He’ll be coming back soon,” she took the hand that was rested on her face and kissed the small palm.

Arya and Charlotte had their supper in her chambers and allowed her daughter to sleep with her too. The moment Arya realized that Charlotte was already asleep; she took out a parchment from her bedside drawer, carefully walked out of the room and silently strode to the door on the other side of the hall.

Knocking lightly, she heard the sweet voice of her sister from the other side telling her that it was open. When she walked in the room, she found Sansa sitting on her featherbed back rested on the wall, reading a parchment.

“Arya,” Sansa sat up when she saw her sister.

“Do you have moment?”

“Of course,” the Queen made space for Arya.

The sisters sat side by side on the featherbed, Arya rolling and unrolling the parchment she was holding while Sansa studied her tired face.

“What’s wrong?” Sansa asked anxiously.

Arya only handed her the letter and her sister took it reluctantly.

Carefully unrolling the script, Sansa read the words with intent. Arya sat silently on her side.

And then a gasp, “He asked you to marry him?” the Queen’s eyes were as bright as the moon peering from the window.

“The feast,” Arya answered.

“The feast? But he was named Lord-“ and then she understood. “He asked you to marry him after he was named Lord of Storm’s End?”

Arya just nodded.

“And you said no?”

Another nod.

“Because you’re not a proper lady?”

And then another nod.

“Oh Arya,” Sansa wrapped her arms around her sister, who buried her face on her chest.

Just when Arya though she couldn’t cry more tears that day, she was wrong. Sansa’s embrace was the comfort she needed. Not the same comfort she felt with Charlotte. It was the same comfort her father would give her when the world showed their hate on her face when she was still young. Sansa’s warmth was enough to make her cry more until there were really no more tears left to cry.

“I was so stupid,” she mumbled through her sobs.

Sansa ran her hands through her hair, the same way she would on Charlotte’s dark locks.

“Hush. You weren’t stupid. You did what you thought was right.”

“By not telling him about his daughter,” Arya words were muffled in her sister’s clothing.

“We make mistakes Arya. It serves as lessons and if we’re lucky, we are given second chances,” the Queen’s soothing voice made the she-wolf bury her face more on her sister’s chest. Sansa only held her tighter. “You love him,” Sansa spoke gently. She heard her sister whimper in her hold.

“I think I do,” was Arya’s short answer in a whisper.

Sansa nodded.

They let themselves be in silence for a moment, not moving from their bundled position.

“He’ll come back for you and Charlotte. Let him show you that he loves you and you do the same,” Arya nodded, “Just imagine Charlotte’s reaction,” the Queen chuckled softly.

“She’d be thrilled to see her papa again,” Arya let herself imagine the look on her daughter’s face once Gendry’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed some of you aren't too happy with Arya lately. Finally, we get to understand her more. 
> 
> What do you think will she do now that she'd accepted her feelings for Gendry?
> 
> \---  
I know I haven't been updating as often as I used to be, there's just a lot of sht going on but I'm trying my best to finish chapter 11.  
And I'm sorry for the confusion with the chapter count, I accidentally posted chapter 9 twice. I'm not really a techy person. Hahaha!  
I will go through the comments later.   
Thank you for your patience and love for this story. It means so much to me. Especially with all the crap that's going on with me lately.  
Lavyah! <3


	11. Chapter 11

** _Winterfell_ **

It has been over a week since Arya had ridden into the woods. She walked into the dining hall with Charlotte who’s been gloomy, quite like the brisk wind and blizzard outside the threshold. She found the Queen talking cautiously to her Maester in front of the hearth and Arya immediately knew something was wrong.

“What’s happened?” she asked demandingly.

Sansa was taken aback to see her and gingerly eyed Charlotte, “Maester Wolkin please call for Marie.”

“Sansa, what is going on?” Arya sounded more insistent as she watched the maester leave.

“Let’s wait for Marie,” was all the Queen’s reply before taking her cup from the table and downing its contents.

When Marie arrived, she was instructed by the Queen to take Charlotte back in her champers and have her breakfast there.

“Your mother and I have something very important to talk about, my sweet. We’ll see you later,” Sansa kissed the top of the little girl’s head before Marie took her up to her chambers.

“Now will you tell me what’s happening?”

The Queen took a deep breath before she took out the parchment the Maester had given her that early morning.

“A raven from Ser Davos.”

_Ser Davos? But he was with Gendry and she hasn’t received-_

“What happened to him?” Arya gave her sister a stern look that the Queen couldn’t even look at her.

Sansa cleared her throat before reading the parchment,

_Your Grace,_

_I am writing this letter to inform you of the current situation here at the Stormlands._

_Lord Gendry and I along with our company never had the chance to reach Storm’s End. As soon as we arrived in the boarded, we were told by the Lords of the Stormlands that the pirates have been growing impatient and had been taking lives of Stormlanders from the ships they have in their hold._

_We decided it was best that we sail to the Narrow Sea instead of heading to Storm’s End before they can take another Westerossi life._

_We were asked to transfer ships as soon as we met the bandits and started negotiating once we were there._

_They’re demanding for land. We informed them that decisions regarding Westorossi Land should also be discussed with the King. And that is why I am here in Storm’s End sending ravens back and forth to the King and the Small Council as they journey back to King’s Landing._

_As for Lord Gendry’s whereabouts, the pirates insisted that he is kept detained alongside the other captured Stormlanders until I return with words from the King that there’s a portion of land allocated for them._

_In other words, he’s being held hostage as well._

_But worry not, the King along with the Small Council had decided that they are willing to give Dragonstone to them, that is if Lord Gendry will agree and most likely, without a doubt, he will._

_I will be sailing back to the Narrow Sea as soon as I send this raven to you. _

_I am aware that this should be a matter of the Six Kingdoms and we shouldn’t be discussing this with you but knowing that we are allies and friends, I thought it would be wise to at least let you know of what is happening here at the moment._

_Best Regards,_

_Ser Davos Seaworth_

“Gendry’s being held hostage,” Arya flatly spoke once the Queen finished reading the script.

“Yes, but-“ but Arya was already walking away from her.

“Arya, where the hell are you going?” Sansa went after her sister who was now running up the stairs.

“Where do you think I’m going?”

“Will you please stop and listen to me!” the Queen commanded. 

But Arya was still running towards her chambers.

Finally, Sansa was able to grab her arm and swiveled her on the last step of the stairs, “Listen to me,” her voice was unyielding, her blue eyes staring sternly at Arya’s grey ones, “There’s nothing you can do. You heard what Ser Davos said in his letter, they’ll give them Dragonstone,” she still had a firm grip on Arya’s arm as she continued, “There’s a snowstorm coming. Even if you want to ride South it will be difficult,” and then her gaze softened, “And what about Charlotte?”

Arya though for a moment before pulling her arm away from Sansa, “I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell I can ride through the blizzard without a problem-“

“But what about your daughter?”

Arya swallowed the lump in her throat and just then Marie came to their side, “It’s Charlotte,” she choked the name out through her perturbed stance.

Arya furrowed her brows as she hastily followed Marie to her daughter’s chambers, Sansa on their heels.

“She wouldn’t eat anything and she keeps saying she’s cold,” she gestured towards Charlotte’s room. “When I held her hand she was burning hot,” Marie added.

“Go get the Maester,” Sansa ordered as she followed Arya inside Charlotte’s chambers.

Arya crossed the room to her daughter’s side in a breath. Charlotte was huddled up with layers of blankets, the food on the table beside her bed, cold.

“What’s wrong, my love?” she kneeled on her daughter’s hand, running a hand on her forehead, “Gods you’re burning,” she exclaimed, brushing the hair sticking to Charlotte’s face.

The little girl’s eyes were hollow and watery, her face pale as the white snow falling bleakly around the castle, her lips were chapped as they quivered and her hands trembled as her mother held them.

Arya sat beside her daughter, cradling her small form when Charlotte crooked, “Tired, mama.”

“That’s because you haven’t eaten anything. Does it hurt somewhere, Choti?” she spoke as softly as she could, running a hand on Charlotte’s back which she realized was damp. She pulled the thin fabric of her nightclothes, letting air pass through. Charlotte shook her head.

“You have to eat something, my sweet,” Sansa crouched beside them.

“It tastes bad,” she said, glaring at the food on the table.

The Queen sighed downheartedly.

Marie finally came back with Maester Wolkin, bringing his paraphernalia.

Arya and Sansa watched the Maester tend to the little girl with attentive eyes, though Arya’s worry washed over her face.

Charlotte only complained of the cold and that the food tastes bad, even when the Maester asked her to at least drink water, even the water tasted badly.

The sweat rolled down her temple as Maester Wolkin helped the little Princess sit up, her nightclothes was very damp.

“You should change her,” the instruction was directed to Marie who immediately got into work as the maester motioned for the Queen and her sister to the hearth of the small room.

They huddled by the fire, “It seems like the little Princess in not used to the cold.” Maester Wolkin looked over to Arya who woefully shook her head.

Sansa peered to her sister, understanding that she might feel regretful at the moment. She is a daughter of the North, her daughter, on the other hand, had never been to the North, not until a few moon’s turn ago.

“We’ve been to cold places before but none of them were as cold as Winterfell, especially not with the snowstorm,” Arya gestured to the closed window.

Maester Wolkin nodded understandingly, “It will probably take time for the little Princess to get used to the cold of the North. I’ll leave some tea that she can take when her palate is a little better and I’ll send the maids to fetch buckets of water and some wash clothes,” he gave a respectful bow to the sisters after the Queen thanked him.

“Maester Wolkin,” Arya followed him to the halls looking very worried.

The Maester halted his steps, turning around to see Arya, “It’s not winter fever, is it?” Her voice shuddered in concern.

The master smiled gently, “It has been a very long time since I’ve heard someone had that fever, Princess. She’s not flushed and her fever started probably just this morning despite how hot she is now, those are not the signs of winter fever.”

Arya sigh inwardly, she felt a little relieved.

“I understand your worry. We will look after her. It will be a very long day and night though.”

She nodded in understanding and thanked the master again.

She almost bumped into Sansa when she returned to her daughter’s chambers.

“I’m going to see to the maids,” she said, giving Arya a reassuring smile. 

Charlotte was dozing off when she reached her bed; Marie tossed more logs in the hearth.

Arya laid herself beside her daughter, caressing her pale cheeks as she watched the tired blue eyes.

“You need to take the tea that Maester Wolkin made for you if you want to feel better, Choti,” she whispered.

The little girl only shook her head.

“What about some warm stew? You don’t want the little dragons to be hungry now,” she playfully yet carefully poked Charlotte’s belly which earned her a small drowsy smile and another shake of the head.

“Alright, why don’t you take a nap and when you wake up later maybe we can try that tea,” she kissed the very warm forehead and pulled the little princess close.

Finally, the maids came with two buckets of water and some clothes.

Marie and Arya immediately soaked the cloths with the cold water, wringing the excess water and cautiously wiped Charlotte’s small form with the damp clothes.

They did this many more times.

“Arya,” Marie suddenly spoke making the she-wolf turn her gaze to her, “You haven’t eaten anything.”

Arya chuckled, thinking it was something important, “I’ll eat later.” She returned her attention back to her daughter, who flinched at the sudden cold contact when she dabbed the damp cloth to her forehead.

“I’ll go get some bread from the kitchen,” Marie ignored her response, making Arya roll her eyes.

She continued to tend to Charlotte, silently praying to the Gods, whoever they may be. When the back of her hand stokes the dark hair of the sleeping child, she was reminded of her father’s state at the present time.

_He’s being held captive by pirates._

She closed her eyes momentarily, her hand stilled on her daughter’s head.

She let her gaze linger on Charlotte, staring longingly.

“Arya?” she heard Sansa come in. “How is she?”

Without taking her eyes off of Charlotte, “Still the same. She still wouldn’t eat anything.”

“I saw Marie on my way here; she said she’s bringing food up for you.”

She hummed in response.

Sansa sighed a long-drawn one and sat on the chair opposite to Arya’s. Just like her sister, she looked distressed.

“I can look after her while you eat,” the Queen offered.

Arya didn’t answer. She had her eyes on her daughter, looking as if she was deep in thought.

Sansa hesitated for a moment if she should take her away from her reverie, but decided not to. She pulled out another sigh as she watched her sister in concern.

A moment passed before Marie walked back in with a tray of food. She placed it on the table near the humble hearth and carefully approached Arya who weakly turned back to her.

“There’s fresh bread and cheese. I also brought some stew,” she pointed to the serving at the table.

Arya gave her a forced smile and nodded, “Thank you.” But she didn’t stand up from her place beside her daughter’s bed.

“Arya, you should eat,” Sansa encouraged.

“I’ll eat with Charlotte when she wakes up,” Arya spoke so quietly, it sounded like a whisper.

Sansa shook her head as she approached her sister, “You can eat while you wait for her to wake up.”

“I said I’ll wait for Charlotte,” she insisted, ignoring her sister’s hand that rested on her shoulder.

Sansa was relieved that at least Arya didn’t shove her away still; it pained her to see her sister this way. “Alright then. I’ll be in my study if you need anything,” the Queen then gestured for Marie to follow her out. “Tell the maids to fetch fresh buckets of water for my niece.”

A curt bow was given to her as a reply.

The sun was already setting when Charlotte started whimpering in her sleep. Arya, who never left her side was quick to stand from her seat and soothed her daughter.

“Shhh… It’s alright my Choti… You’re alright,” she softly caressed the little girl’s hair down to her cheek, repeating the motion until Charlotte calmed down. With that, the little Princess opened her weary blue eyes.

Gaping at her mother, she reached out her hand, “Mama…”

“I’m here, Choti,” Arya took the hand and kissed the very warm palm. “How are you feeling?”

Charlotte just blinked at her question. It took a few seconds maybe almost a minute before she asked, “Papa?”

Arya thought her heart stopped for a beat before slowly, piece by piece it shattered.

It sounded as if Charlotte knew her father was in a horrible situation but at the same time, she sounded like she was looking for him.

“He’s helping the Stormlanders, remember?” she tried to hide the look of alarm on her face.

Charlotte shook her head.

Arya’s brows knitted together, confused and panicked, “What do you mean, Choti?”

Charlotte sniffed, “Papa’s in the water.”

Arya froze. She felt her insides heat up as the sudden ringing in her ears made her feel dizzy. That ringing carried Charlotte’s words in repetition and at that very moment, she thought she was going to faint.

With one hand on Charlotte’s, the other clutched tightly on the edge of the bed and both her eyes closed, she tried to balance herself.

_You need to breathe. _She told herself.

The sound of the chair echoed in the room as she bolted up, a hand still holding Charlotte’s.

She moved to sit beside her daughter, whom she guided as she sat up carefully.

Arya bore her gaze to those blue eyes that reflected her father’s; they were brimming with a thin layer of tears now.

“Choti, why are you saying papa’s in the water? Where did you get that?” the she-wolf’s worry and panic was now so obvious but it didn’t last long. She quickly wiped it off of her face as soon as she realized it made Charlotte anxious.

Clearing her throat, she tried her best to sound calm as she asked again, “Charlotte? Why do you think your father’s in the water?”

“I saw it in my dream, mama,” her lower lip quivered as she spoke.

Arya let out a ragged breath as she held on to Charlotte’s two hands, “What else did you see in your dream, Choti?” She did her best to not let her voice shudder when she asked.

Charlotte thought for awhile. Her mother sat there patiently.

“He… He…” Arya raised her brows in anticipation.

“He what, my love?”

Then Charlotte shrugged.

Though disappointed with the lack of details, Arya knew that Charlotte’s words meant something.

She doesn’t know if they will be successful with their trade. She’s not even sure if Ser Davos had reached the ship where Gendry and his men are being taken as hostages.

Arya pulled Charlotte for an embrace which her daughter willingly gave in.

She ran her hands through the damp hair and clothing, shaking her head when she was brought back to her reality in Winterfell. Charlotte was still not well.

Once she pulled back, she took some fresh clothes from her daughter’s wardrobe and changed her.

“Do you want some stew, Choti?” Arya hopefully asked.

Charlotte meekly nodded.

She knew that the food that Marie had brought in earlier would not be warm anymore and so she peeked out of Charlotte’s door and asked the guard standing in the hall to call for Marie.

She had no plans of leaving her daughter alone, especially after what she said about Gendry.

A few moments later Marie arrived. Arya gave her instructions to serve a tray for Charlotte; stew and bread along with the tea that Maester Wolkin wanted her to take.

As they waited for Marie, Arya laid with Charlotte in the featherbed, huddled up under the thick wool. The little girl rested her head on her mother’s chest as she listened to her silent hum.

When Marie returned, she didn’t just have food prepared for Charlotte but also for Arya.

Arya thank the young lady for her kind gesture not knowing it was her sister who reminded Marie to bring some food for her.

Marie replaced the buckets of water and wash clothes as the mother and daughter ate in silence at the table near the hearth. Though at times, Charlotte would grimace as she takes a bite making Arya worry more and more.

“Does it hurt when you swallow, Choti?”

Charlotte shook her head, a small piece of bread in her hand, “Don’t like the taste, mama.”

“Well, maybe if we wash it off with some water or this drink from Maester Wolkin it will taste better,” Arya offered.

She helped her daughter drink from the cup but was only disappointed by the quick shove.

“I don’t like it!” Charlotte cried.

Arya wouldn’t want to admit it but she was starting to feel impatient with the lack of progress in Charlotte’s condition.

She took a deep breath as she soothed her daughter and tried the drink again, “Just a little bit, Choti. If you want to be better you need to drink this.”

“No!”

Then a thought came to Arya as her eyes travelled to the drawer beside Charlotte’s bed, “I thought you wanted to play with Little Needle?” she wiggled her eyebrows playfully and smirked.

The little girl’s eyes were so big and round, Arya couldn’t help but laugh.

“Now, how are you going to practice with it if you’re stuck here inside?”

Charlotte furrowed her brows at her mother, who only smiled at her cute expression.

“Come on now, Choti. Mama also wants to play with her Needle,” Arya tapped the girl’s lap, introducing the cup again.

Arya thanked the Old Gods and the New. Maybe even the Lord of Light and the God of Death, when Charlotte accepted the cup with two hands and downed every last drop of it. Arya noticed how Charlotte’s eyes watered, holding her tiny belly. She looked like she was about to hurl everything inside it. Arya held her breath, a hand on her daughter’s back. And thanks to her reflexes, she took the bowl on the table beside her; half empty and place it in front of Charlotte.

And for the second time, Arya thanked all the Gods. It didn’t happen. She heaved a sigh of relief, watching her daughter blink up to her looking uneasy.

“You did well, Choti.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead who grinned back at her mother feeling proud of herself, though; the little girl isn’t sure what she’s supposed to be proud of. She just knew her mother’s happy at her for something she did.

Arya leaned in to leave another kiss on Charlotte’s cheek, then her button nose, then her chin then-

Then Sansa barged inside the room, a parchment clutched in one hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now what is that letter about, Sansa? Who's it from?  
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I always say this, I hope you won't get tired of it... THANK YOU!!!  
I love reading your comments and hearing what you have to say. And i know most of you will talk about my love for cliffhangers. *evil laugh* Thanks for the love and support guys.. <3  
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I would like to give a special shout out to @thereluctantbadger @zoyarose @valsore @obsessivewriter and to our thurst camp(whoever else is here hahaha) in tumblr. lol I finished writing this chapter passed midnight and editing was done at 3am while we gushed over our beloved Gendry. HAHA!  
Talk to me there if you want, @coffeexwhiskey


	12. Chapter 12

** _Winterfell_ **

Sansa’s eyes moved from her sister to her niece. The little girl was looking up to her expectantly from her seat.

She dashed to Charlotte giving her the most relieved smile she had ever worn that day as she bent down to place a hand on her very warm cheek, “Do you feel better now, my sweet?”

Charlotte gave a curt nod, also smiling to her aunt.

Sansa placed a peck on her forehead before standing up to face the awaiting Arya who was watching them with a sharp look on her face the whole time.

“Marie will be up in a moment,” the Queen peered over to the little girl on her side; Charlotte was busy forcing a piece of bread down her throat.

“Why?” Arya asked, her gaze ran over Sansa’s face down to the parchment on her hand.

Sansa’s silence forced her to ask, “Who’s it from?”

And just then, Marie came in with fresh bedspread and blankets for Charlotte’s featherbed.

“We’ll talk in my study. Marie will stay here with Charlotte.”

Not wanting to argue with her sister, Arya heaved a heavy sigh before kissing her daughter’s forehead.

“I will only be with Aunt Sansa. I will be back soon,” Charlotte hesitated for a moment, blinking as she stared up to her mother but nodded in the end.

The she-wolf wasted no time; she immediately closed the door of the Queen’s study as soon as both of them were inside, “What is it, Sansa?”

“It’s from Bran and his council,” Arya wasn’t sure if she should be comforted or worried. A part of her hoped it was from Storm’s End but she knew it would be too soon to hear from Ser Davos or Gendry.

“What did it say?”

But instead of answering her question, Sansa asked, “Since when did pirates ever ask for land?”

Arya was taken aback with the question, not expecting it. But then she thought hard. She never heard of pirates demanding for castles or islands or land before.

“Exactly,” Sansa said, as if hearing her thoughts. “They only want gold,” she added.

“But why are they asking now?”

“So they could-“

“Sell it.”

“Right.”

“Have they done this before?”

“The letter said Bran saw the same group of pirates doing the same stunt to some parts of the free cities of Essos. Then they’d sell the land they obtained to richer men from Essos.”

Arya nodded in understanding. But then a thought came to her, “So if they get Dragonstone, will they sell it to someone from Westeros or still Essos?” Arya asked hoping the answer was found in the letter.

Sansa shook her head, “We don’t know yet. But either way, the council has a plan.”

Arya listened intently, “Once the bandits take hold of Dragonstone, the council will wait until it is sold and then the crown will buy it back from whoever can afford the pirates’ price.”

Her sister knitted her brows and shook her head in disagreement, “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Sansa. Who would buy a castle and sell it as soon as they’re given ownership to the fortress unless-“

“Unless they sell it in a higher price,” Sansa concluded. “They thought of that too. But it’s a risk they’re willing to take.”

Arya slouched her shoulders as she walked over to a chair and slumped herself on the seat. She didn’t even notice that the two of them were just standing in the middle of the room all throughout their conversation.

Sansa walked across her to sit opposite of the table.

“Will the crown be able to afford it?” Arya quietly asked, staring on the dark wood in front of her.

“We don’t know yet,” was all Sansa’s answer.

Arya nodded.

They both sat in silence, silently hoping for the plan to work though they know there’s a slim chance of successfully securing the castle again.

Arya tapped her fingers on the table and looked up to her sister, “When should we expect to receive a raven from Storm’s End?”

Sansa couldn’t help but pity her sister. With Charlotte still sick all thanks to the blizzard and Gendry fighting for his men in the middle of the Narrow Sea, it was obvious that Arya was on edge as worry never left her face.

The Queen reached out to put a hand over her sister’s, “I bet Ser Davos’s and Gendry are reunited by now. It won’t be long.” She tried her best to sound positive, forcing herself to believe her own words.

But it didn’t do anything to Arya. She sat there, eyes blank as she stared on the table that separated them from each other.

“What are you thinking?” Sansa asked warily, leaning over. 

Arya didn’t speak nor did she move. Not even a small shift of her finger.

“Arya?” Sansa tried again, her voice wrapped in concern.

Then finally, a blink. “Charlotte saw him in the water.”

Sansa straightened up from her seat, a hand still outstretched. She swallowed heavily and carefully asked, “Who? Who’s in the water?”

“Gendry,” Arya spoke the name dryly though there was a hint of anguish and yearning in her voice.

Sansa was confused with her sister’s quick answer. She sounded perplexed and alarmed when the word came out of her mouth, “How?”

A beat, and then another one, before Arya finally looked at her sister in the eyes, “She saw it in her dreams,” she replied calmly.

“And you believed that?”

A scoff almost came out as Arya’s retort, but she stopped herself. Instead, she answered confidently, “I believe it though I hope it’s not true.”

“Then why do you believe it?” Sansa clenched her jaw tightly, her gaze unyielding as if she was trying to force Arya to dismiss her horrible thought.

Arya stared at her hand that was now on her lap. “It’s not the first time.”

“What do you mean?”

Arya inhaled deeply, “When we were still sailing, there was a time almost half a year maybe, that we didn’t find land. One morning while we broke our fast, she said she saw trees in her sleep. After two moon’s turn, we found an island that was mostly forest.”

She peered over her sister who listened to her explanation, eyes wide open as she gaped at her.

“And then,” Arya couldn’t help for her voice to tremble, “When we were sailing to White Harbour on our way here, one night she woke up in the middle of our slumber saying she heard a loud pounding,” she chuckled at the memory. “I asked her if she was dreaming and she said she saw a man with dark hair holding a hammer while she watched him from a very warm place,” she eyed her sister with a raised brow. “I think we both know who that man is… And where that place is…”

Sansa sat there in silence as she absorbed her sister’s stories. A little girl having visions of the future through her dreams, it sounded obscure. But then Bran turned out to be the Three Eyed Raven, White Walkers happened and dragons lived again. It wasn’t impossible that her niece may have a special gift as well.

** **

** _Storm’s End_ **

The men of the Stormlands marched from the docks back to the great fortress of Storm’s End. Some of them in horses while some on foot. Commoners stared from their windows as they passed through the main road, loud whispers and cries from families who dashed out of their cottages to run to their husbands, sons and brothers. It was dark and only the moon showed them the way but it was clear as day the men trailing the road were tired and hurt, bodies bloodied and soaked.

As soon as they were near the castle, the gates opened for them and men and women rushed to their aid. Ser Davos, who was leading the weak and wounded men, immediately shouted for the maester.

He ushered Maester Holden towards a horse where a man was slung over, unconscious.

A loud gasp can be heard from the maester, “What happened?” he asked Ser Davos who was shivering beside him.

“I didn’t see but they said he got hit by a falling mast and fell off the ship,” Ser Davos walked alongside the maester who instructed servants to carry the Lord’s out cold body.

“Did they mention if it was in the head?” Maester Holden asked.

“Yes it was,” answered the Onion Knight.

As soon as they were in the Lord’s chambers, the maester quickly got into work.

There was blood coming from the back of Gendry’s head where the mast probably hit him. Maester Holden murmured that he would have to stitch it close before the Lord of Storm’s End could lose more blood. Ser Davos helped him in removing his layers of clothes. They found a big bruise on his abdomen and a long cut on his back through his side. The maester looked up to the worried man, “It’s not too deep,” he said to reassure Ser Davos who replied with an audible sigh.

Somehow he felt guilty not noticing the bleeding, but maybe the cut was shallow enough for the blood to not seep through his tunic. 

The maester tended to the cuts first, a young man who Ser Davos remembered to be called Rudy, the maester’s squire, entered the room.

He had a bunch of different kinds of leaves in one hand and the other carried Maester Holden’s paraphernalia.

Ser Davos rubbed his hands together to warm himself as he watched the pair treat Gendry’s wounds and bruises. He blew on his cold hands, trying his best not to shiver but the act was not missed by the maester.

“Why don’t you get yourself changed, Ser Davos. We don’t want you to catch a fever now, do we?”

Ser Davos was about to resist his suggestion but thought better.

As soon as he had warm and dry clothes on, he quickly met up with the people at the kitchens to make sure the men who were with them were fed.

Thankfully, Hot Pie had prepared food for them along with the other cooks.

“Here, Ser Davos,” Hot Pie placed a plate on the table in the middle of the kitchen where the reserved food were placed.

Ser Davos gratefully nodded and took a seat on the bench to start devouring the hot food in front of him.

Hot Pie, stood behind him. Ser Davos could feel the eyes fixed on the back of his head making it difficult for him to swallow the food he was eating.

“What is it boy?” his voice startled the poor baker.

Hot Pie hesitated for a moment, shuffling on the spot where he stood as he watched Ser Davos turn from his meal to face him. Finally decided, he stumbled to the space beside Ser Davos.

“What... Will… Will Lord Gendry be alright?” he asked, stuttering.

Ser Davos let out a heavy sigh, dropping his spoon on the table. “I hope so,” he bobbed his head mechanically.

“May I know what happened, Ser Davos?” though Hot Pie knew he was in no place to ask, he was hoping that Ser Davos would consider his concern as a question coming from a friend and not from a baker in the kitchens.

Thankfully, the old man clasped him in the back, “We’ll talk later when I’m not hungry.” Ser Davos gave him a tired smile but it was enough assurance for Hot Pie to know that he will be told of what happened in the Narrow Sea.

It was almost midnight, when Ser Davos found himself in Gendry’s chambers with sprawled clean and used parchment together with a quill and an ink bottle. He had company though; Hot Pie sat patiently across from him in the table.

Gendry was still unconscious.

“What did Maester Holden say?” Hot Pie asked.

“No one knows how much blood he lost. He’s worried about his head.”

Hot Pie nodded, his eyes fixed on the Lord of Storm’s End.

“Don’t worry,” Ser Davos stopped his writing to catch the man’s attention. “He’s a fighter, that lad,” he pointed his quill to Gendry. “He’ll wake up soon.”

When he finally finished scribbling on the parchment, he rolled it up and placed it along with the other scrolls.

Hot Pie noticed his actions and understood that as a sign that Ser Davos was about to tell him what happened.

He waited for the Onion Knight to talk with eager eyes.

Ser Davos cleared his throat, “When I arrived at the ship where they held them, there was already a commotion.” He moved his gaze to Gendry and Hot Pie followed his line of sight.

“The fools brought about what happened during the Long Night when they found out it was Daenerys who named him Lord of Storm’s End and warden of the West... They-,“ Ser Davos took a moment to shift on his seat before continuing, “They talked about Arya.”

Hot Pie’s head snapped to him. “What did they say about Arry?” he furrowed his brows.

“They showed their interest for the Hero of Winterfell saying they want to see the Bringer of Dawn and how they want to know how her cunt would feel like when they stick their…” Ser Davos couldn’t even finish his sentence as the scene replayed in his head.

How Gendry was screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to break free from the ropes they had tied around him. The lustful sneers and smirks from the pirates made him want to hit them in the face but Gendry got to him first. How he was able to break loose from the restrains, he had no idea. One moment Gendry was on the wooden plank struggling to unbind himself then he was already up on his feet with his fist on a pirate’s face.

All Seven Hells broke loose. The men who were with Ser Davos quickly untied the Stormlander’s who were being held captive as they tried to fight off the bandits.

“He’s a Baratheon after all. His fury got the best of him and I understand why,” Ser Davos and Hot Pie exchanged knowing looks.

“Knowing that they’re out numbered because I brought more men with me when I returned to them, one of them started a fire. That’s when the real fight happened. Gendry made sure their leader and his right hand man no longer breathed. They tried to escape by jumping off the ship but Gendry wouldn’t allow that now, would he?” he chuckled to himself. “I told him to jump off but there were still more Stormlanders tied up. He wouldn’t leave them. Heroic bastard,” he muttered the last words. “I was helping the others when I heard someone scream his name. And that’s when I knew he was in the water.”

“Does he know how to swim?” Hot Pie’s question made Ser Davos laugh.

He peered at him and shook his head, “No.” The old man calmed himself, “But even if he did, he was still knocked off by a mast.”

“How did he survive then?” horror plastered in Hot Pie’s face at the thought of losing his friend.

“The men who jump off first pulled him out of the water.”

** _Winterfell_ **

Arya never tried to close her eyes for more than a few seconds. Despite having the window closed, the cold breeze of the snowstorm still seeped through the thick walls of Winterfell.

She pulled Charlotte closer to her side carefully not to let the damp cloth fall off from her daughter’s forehead.

Running a hand through the dark locks, she let herself think of the moments where she witnessed Charlotte with Gendry and hoped for it to happen again soon.

She missed hearing the sweet soft laugh of her little girl, how she’d drag her in the practice yard and shove a stick for her to use and counter hers. She missed the proud grin in Charlotte’s face when she came inside the castle all sweaty and dirty, Gendry close behind her. She recalled the moment when she saw Gendry carrying Charlotte on his back as they headed for the Godswood to play with Ser Davos. Sansa had to elbow her, not realizing she was starring. There was a time where she found Gendry in Charlotte’s chambers, trying to pull an extra layer of clothing over her nightclothes because it was too cold. She smiled at the image of the two, running around in the room as Gendry chased Charlotte. And when she returned almost an hour later, Gendry already had Charlotte’s head on his lap, fast asleep.

Arya took a deep breath, hoping she’d see that again and she’d be on Charlotte’s other side, retelling her stories.

Now she can tell the story of The Pack with her own _pack _with her.

Charlotte suddenly wailed in her sleep. Her face contorted as she gripped the sheets around her as if she was in agony. Arya quickly bolted up to wake her daughter and end the nightmare, “Charlotte. It’s mama. It’s alright, Choti.” She held the sides of the girl’s face with her hands, her thumbs caressing through the warm cheeks. “Choti, wake up. Everything’s alright. Mama’s here.”

Charlotte finally opened her eyes making the tears that were trapped in her blues eyes fall down her face.

Her lips quivered, eyes full of warm tears. She grabbed on to her mother and buried her face on her chest.

Arya held on to the little girl tightly and kissed the top of her head more than once as she hushed her daughter.

“It’s alright. I’m right here, my love. Mama’s here,” she repeated that again and again as she listened to her daughter’s sobs.

Charlotte sniffed and shook in her mother’s arms, “Mama..” she called.

“I’m right here,” Arya whispered, leaving another peck on her daughter’s head.

It took awhile for Charlotte to calm down. The two sat in the middle of the featherbed, wrapped in each other’s arms.

When Arya couldn’t hear more sobs, she carefully peeled herself from her daughter, her hands on the small tear-streaked face.

“A bad dream?” she asked warily.

Charlotte nodded.

As much as Arya doesn’t want her to relive the nightmare, she had to convince herself that she had to knowing what Charlotte’s last dream was about.

“Can you tell mama what it was?” Arya asked slowly in the softest way as she can.

Charlotte was lost in her thought for a moment, making her mother worry more.

She regretted asking the question.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” Arya comforted.

“I want papa,” and for the hundredth time, Arya’s heart shattered at the request.

Carefully she tried again, “Was your dream about your papa?”

Charlotte nodded.

Arya fell silent, not really sure if she wanted to know what happened to Gendry in her daughter’s dream.

But Charlotte didn’t wait for her to ask. The little girl gripped her mother’s hand when she bawled again, “Papa...”

Charlotte’s words were muffled by her cries, “Papa… Do not want Charlotte.” The little girl wept again and Arya doesn’t know if she should believe her daughter’s words or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I have Charlotte's gift. What do you think about her dreams?  
\---  
Thank you for the comments and kudos my lovies!!! My soft heart is so grateful. and to those who just found out about this fic, WELCOME! :)  
\---  
Three updates in less than a week! YAAAAAS!  
I will try to finish this modern AU I've abandoned and hopefully get that up first thing next week.  
I'm sorry if there are typos and errors, your writer's a bit tipsy while she did the finishing touches for this chapter.  
Chat me up on tumblr, coffeexwhiskey  
Lavyah! <3


	13. Chapter 13

** _Storm’s End_ **

The sun was already up when Rudy aggressively knocked on Ser Davos’s door.

By the sound of it, Ser Davos immediately knew it was something important.

“Lord Gendry is awake,” the squire announced as soon as the door was opened.

A grin was about to show on the old man’s face when he noticed Rudy’s agitated state.

“What’s wrong?”

Rudy hesitated, trying to choose his words carefully, and finally decided with, “Maester Holden is waiting for you, Ser… He’s in the Lord’s chambers.”

Wasting no time, Ser Davos pushed through the young man and dashed through the halls of the castle. It took him less than a minute to reach the grand bedchamber.

He was relieved to see Gendry sitting up on his featherbed, though the look on the maester’s face quickly took that relief away.

Maester Holden had his face so close to Gendry, Ser Davos thought they might touch their cheeks together. That’s when he realized that Gendry was trying to say something in a small voice and the maester had to lean in so he could hear.

Gendry knitted his brows together as he watched Ser Davos cross the room.

“And what is it that you remember before that?” asked Maester Holden.

Gendry blinked in thought.

The maester waited patiently but an answer never came.

“Lord Gendry?”

Gendry just raised his eyebrows at the maester.

“What do you remember after you reached the docks, my Lord?”

Gendry shook his head, “I don’t… I don’t remember…” He mumbled.

Ser Davos’s eyes widen when he heard the answer.

He was about to lunge towards Gendry and ask him to think again when the maester motioned for him to stop.

“Alright then,” Maester Holder spoke softly.

Ser Davos eyed him questioningly.

“You remember you were in Winterfell,” Gendry nodded at that, “And do you remember what happened in Winterfell?”

Gendry thought hard, and it pained Ser Davos to see him struggling to recall his memories.

The Lord of Storm’s End had his eyes tightly closed and so were his hands.

“Do you remember who you were with when you were there?” Maester Holden prompted.

“Soldiers,” was Gendry’s clear answer.

“That’s right. And who else?”

Gendry closed his eyes again, trying to fish the memory out.

“I don’t remember,” a sigh came out with his words.

Maester Holden nodded, “That’s fine. Now, do you remember anyone at Winterfell?”

“I remember the Queen and Lord Tyrion and… and a little girl,” he didn’t sound so sure which worried Ser Davos even more.

“Do you remember who that little girl is, my Lord?”

Ser Davos looked away when Gendry shook his head.

“What?” Gendry asked Ser Davos, forcing him to return his gaze to the young Lord.

“Nothing lad… Just… Just try to remember…”

“I’m trying!” was Gendry angry reply.

“I know you are,” replied Ser Davos, the guilt crept on his chest as he looked over the open window.

The maester asked more questions from the past, it would take time for Gendry to answer but most of them are either correct or close to the right answer. He even remembers his mother’s yellow hair and the shop where he used to work despite not remembering the name of the owner. He wasn’t sure if he stayed in King’s Landing long after Lord Stark came to see him. It was difficult for him to name people they noticed, Ser Davos asked him to name all the noble houses from the Stormlands, but Gendry couldn’t even name half of them.

Ser Davos was happy to know that Gendry didn’t forget about meeting Arya again when he asked him to recall the day they were reunited in the Godswood. However, he couldn’t remember what they were arguing about. It still ached the old man’s heart that Gendry couldn’t even remember his own daughter.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Ser Davos proposed.

Maester Holden nodded in agreement and promised to return with some dreamwine so he could take some rest.

”No. I don’t need that,” Gendry dismissed the idea of sleeping again, though he wouldn’t deny the throbbing in his head or the pain in his abdomen.

“Milk of the poppy then?” Maester Holden suggested.

“It will still make me sleep.”

“We have nothing else for the pain, my Lord.”

“Then I’ll have nothing,” Gendry settled himself on the bed, ignoring the maester who left quietly.

Ser Davos walked to the table beside his bed and murmured, “Stubborn stag.”

“I heard that,” said Gendry, his back on Ser Davos who exhaled heavily.

“He was just trying to help, lad.”

“I’m good.”

“Alright. I’ll be in the great hall if you need anything.”

Ser Davos already had a hand on the door when he heard Gendry shuffle in the bed and called for his name, “Can you tell me what really happened in Winterfell and in the Narrow sea?”

The desperation in his tone of voice almost made Ser Davos give in, but he has better sense than to concede to Gendry’s request.

“You’ll have to work on that by yourself, lad. Then we’ll know you’re better,” he gave Gendry a small encouraging smile and left. He heard Gendry sigh in frustration.

** _Winterfell_ **

Arya didn’t pry for Charlotte to tell her more about her dreams. She just had to assume a lot and hope for the best.

It took her quite some time to convince the little girl to fall asleep again.

It wasn’t easy for the both of them; just when Arya thought Charlotte was asleep already, the little girl would move around the small space between them and call for her mama or papa.

Arya had to soothe her constantly.

When Sansa checked on them when dawn came, it was obvious that Arya had no sleep.

“You need to rest.”

“I can’t.”

“You need to… For Charlotte,” the Queen let her eyes rest on the little girl who was fast asleep, holding on to her mother’s clothing.

Arya just shook her head.

Sansa placed a hand on her sister’s arm, the warmth undeniably giving Arya comfort, “You won’t be able to care for her if you’re exhausted, Arya.”

She was exhausted, but she can’t let that stop her from staying awake, not when Charlotte’s still ill. Not when she’s anxiously waiting for news coming from the Stormlands. Not when the two most important people in her life are in a state that ached her heart, mind and body all at once.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Arya snapped her head to Sansa with challenging eyes, growing impatient at her sister’s insistent request.

“Charlotte will need you when she awakes. By then you will be there, with enough strength and rest,” Sansa said sternly.

“I will sit by her side while you sleep in your chambers,” and before Arya could argue, Sansa had pulled on the sheets on her side.

She reluctantly removed the small hand on her chest, leaving a trembled kiss on her daughter’s warm forehead.

Stepping carefully away from the featherbed, she watched Sansa take her place beside Charlotte, silently thanking her sister for the kind gesture.

Taking one more glance over the sleeping girl, she finally walked over to her own chambers.

Sleep didn’t come easy for Arya. Her thoughts would bring her to Charlotte or Gendry. Everytime she closed her eyes, she’d see blue ones staring back at her, weary and pained.

She’d open her eyes again, and she can’t tell if it was her daughter’s or the man she loves.

But her body couldn’t take the fatigue anymore despite her brain’s protest.

When she woke up hours later, it was bright outside yet she could still hear the blizzard, the snow covering the grounds thickly as the wind blew roughly.

Arya quickly changed into a new set of clothes, washing her face with the water from the basin that sat idly on the table. She presumed it was Sansa who asked for it to be prepared knowing she’s the only person who knew she’d in her chambers. She also noticed the platter of food and a jug of water.

She may not always say it to her sister, but she’s thankful for her. Despite what they’ve been through, individually or together, she knew they were both thinking of their family the whole time they were fighting for their lives.

To see how much Sansa cared for Charlotte, even if she only saw her a few moon’s turn ago made her feel more grateful to have her as a sister. Their arrival in Winterfell had made Sansa the happiest she’s ever been in a long time, sitting as Queen with no one but her people and her family away from her. Now that she and Charlotte are with her, she has no plans in leaving her sister alone anytime soon. But Gendry might change that.

The thought of Gendry made her rush out of her chambers, forgetting her half-eaten food and look for Sansa.

She’s where she promised she would be. Right beside her daughter who was starting to stir awake.

Arya gingerly walked to where they were and sat on a chair on Charlotte’s side.

“She slept well?” Arya asked Sansa who was helping Charlotte to sit up.

The little girl’s face brightened up when she saw her mother.

“Yes. I believe it was a good sleep, right my sweet?” Sansa placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek as she nodded to her aunt.

Charlotte pushed the blankets away from her body so she could crawl to her mother’s lap.

“I’ll go ask the maids for fresh buckets and food,” Sansa gave the pair one last smile and headed out of the wooden door.

“Sansa,” Arya called out before her sister could leave completely. “Will you tell me if we receive anything from Storm’s End?”

Sansa gave a knowing smile and nodded before closing the door.

Arya was taken aback when Charlotte’s warm hands grabbed on her face and guided them to look at her.

“Papa?” the little girl asked hopefully after hearing the words Storm’s End.

Arya shook her head lightly and tried a small smile. It was enough to make her daughter slump on her lap in disappointment.

When the maids arrived, Arya immediately gave Charlotte a sponge bath and dressed her warmly. She fed her her soup and tried to entertain the little girl by telling her what they could possibly do once she’s better.

“Little needle?” the little Princess’s eyes sparkled with glee at the thought of playing with her sword.

Arya couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes, we can practice with little needle.”

“And mama’s needle,” Charlotte added, excitedly. She removed herself from her mother’s hold and jumped out of the bed. For a little girl who’s having a fever, she’s a bit energetic than she should be.

Arya took that as a good sign.

She watched Charlotte pull the drawer beside her bed and took out her sword and ran to the front of the bed to show her mother her stance.

Arya couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her mouth when she watched Charlotte balance herself trying to imitate her water dance.

“Careful now, Choti. You don’t want to hurt yourself,” she walked over to her daughter and helped her with her sword.

Arya stood in front of Charlotte who followed her, step by step and made sure she only showed her the easy poses. They only stopped when Charlotte accidently knocked a cup over from the table.

Charlotte tittered at the accident while her mother patted her on the head with a smirk on her face.

Noticing that Charlotte looked a lot better even though she still had a fever, she decided it would be good to at least let her have supper in the dining hall. It would be upsetting for the child to be cooped up in her chambers for days.

Of course, she needed the approval of the maester.

Arya asked one of the guards in the hall outside Charlotte’s chambers to call for Maester Wolkan who approved of Arya’s suggestion. The little girl squirmed at the thought of going somewhere that’s not her room but got quite disappointed when the maester instructed that she shouldn’t be interacting too much with people and she shouldn't play because it will tire her out.

Arya’s protective mother instincts made her so strict when it came to Charlotte’s visit to the dining hall.

She asked for people to not stay too close to her daughter, for both parties’ own good.

Sansa sat on the table with them as she gave Arya updates with the northerners.

“The snowstorms slowing down supplies, thankfully Maester Wolkan said it won’t be long before the blizzard’s over,” Sansa reports as she took a bite of her chicken.

“What about ravens?”

Sansa understood right away. Her eyes said the words for her, Arya nodded in understanding.

“The strong wind will slow them down,” Arya told herself as she felt her sister’s hand on her.

“Let’s try to be patient,” Sansa said kindly.

Arya helped Charlotte with her potatoes and ham while they ate quietly and Arya was happy to see that Charlotte was in happy spirits seeing the people in and out of the hall.

She munched on her food, a slice of potato in her fork and waved it on her mother’s face to show her she’s eating well and earned herself a kiss from her mother and a loving pat on the cheek from her aunt.

Charlotte slept soundly that night, and as much as Arya would like to have a sounding sleep like her daughter, her worry wouldn’t let her. She woke up from time to time, checking on Charlotte and peeking on the small opening from the window in the room. She still slept beside her daughter not wanting to leave for much longer than a few seconds.

When morning came, Arya was relieved to see that the storm outside had calmed down. The snows falling were not as heavy as it was days ago and the sun was slowly creeping out in the horizon.

Charlotte was still fast asleep when she silently crept out of the room to ask for the maester.

She was surprised to see Marie by the door, “I want to know what Princess Charlotte would like to have for breakfast. The people at the kitchens are excited to have the good weather back and plan on preparing for a great meal at the hall.”

Arya was glad to hear she’s not the only one who noticed the weather and the northerners are celebrating. Despite being used to the cold and snowstorms, the people of the North would still rather have calm cold weather than a stormy one.

“Does Sansa know about this feast you’re having?” Arya asked.

Marie nodded vigorously, “She asked me to come actually.”

Arya grinned back at the young woman.

She turned around to see Charlotte still fast asleep on the featherbed and decided not to disturb the little girl. “She likes crusty bread and soup,” Arya told Marie.

Marie gave a respectful bow before going down the stairs to inform the people at the kitchen.

By midmorning, she walked down to the dining hall hand in hand with her daughter who looked thrilled to see the buzz of the people around.

Maester Woklan placed that last cup of Charlotte’s drink and confidently told the girl’s mother that the little Princess was doing well.

Though she’s still warm by the touch, the color of her cheeks had returned as well as her enthusiasm.

They spent their day following Sansa around, which was mostly spent in the Queen’s solar, knitting. While Sansa buried herself in parchment, Arya read books to Charlotte on the other side of the Queen’s library so when a raven arrived; Arya was one of the first people to know.

“Who is it from?” the she-wolf closed the book in her hands and stood from her seat, Sansa did the same.

“Storm’s End, your Grace,” the maester was looking at the Queen and not to the person who asked the question.

But before Maester Wolkan could cross the room to hand the parchment to Sansa, Arya had grabbed it from his hold.

“Arya!” Sansa bellowed.

Charlotte strode to her mother’s side and pulled on her coat.

With hopeful eyes, she asked her mother, “Papa?”

Arya’s hands tremble as she peered down to her daughter and gave a meek nod, “I hope so, Choti.”

She heard Sansa march towards her, making the maester step back.

“I shall take my leave,” the old man said quietly.

Sansa gave him a short nod before laying her stern eyes to her sister, “Read it,” she urged.

Arya hastily pulled out the scroll with shaking hands, her eyes narrowed on the words written on the short parchment.

“What did it say?” Sansa asked impatiently, Charlotte still clutching on to her mother.

_Queen Sansa,_

_I am very much happy to tell you that the Lord of Storm’s End and I are back in the castle with half of our men that were with us._

_However, I’m downhearted to say that the negotiation didn’t end the way we planned it to be. We lost stormalnders and many are wounded in the quick battle that occurred at sea._

_We have informed the King of the circumstances though I believe he already knew what happened before my letter even reached King's Landing._

_I heard of the bad weather in the North. I hope this raven gets to you soon. _

_Warm regards,_

_Ser Davos Seaworth._

“There was a battle and he didn’t say much about Gendry,” Arya instantly stated after reading the letter. She caught a glimpse of her daughter, looking up to her warily. She took the small had gripping to her and caressed the back of her daughter’s hand.

Sansa gazed quietly at the gesture before comforting them, “Ser Davos mentioned he’s back at Storm’s End with their men and Gendry. That means he must be alright.”

“But he did not mention if he’s hurt or…” Arya didn’t finish her sentence when she heard a sob from her daughter.

Her panic might have frightened her. She knelt on the ground and held Charlotte in her arms, “I’m sorry love. Mama didn’t mean to upset you.”

Another sob escaped from the little girl’s lips.

“I want papa,” she whispered softly.

Arya didn’t know what to say to that. She hoped her embrace would be enough to comfort her daughter.

** _Storm’s End_ **

Gendry entered the great hall of Storm’s End with a hand on his side. It still ached from time to time but the pain on his head was worse than that. He tried to ignore it, knowing he has duties to take care of.

He tried to remember his memories for as much as he can. As the days went on, flashes of scenes he believed happened in his past rekindled in his mind. It can be while he’s asleep or awake.

That morning, he woke up from a dream of Arya standing on ice. The Queen was there, a man with dark curly hair right beside her and a big redheaded man not far from them. Sansa and the man beside her played with the little girl as he stood behind Arya who had her eyes on the little girl.

He wanted to ask Arya who were those two men with Sansa and the girl with them but the Gendry in his dream wouldn’t let him. So he forced himself to be in the present.

He looked for Davos as soon as he got himself dressed; wincing with every step he took.

He found the man he was looking for at a table in one corner of the great hall.

“Ser Davos,” he greeted.

The old man smiled happyly, “Glad to see you standing. Do you feel better, lad?”

“I do,” he replied half truthfully.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Gendry rubbed the back of his head, running his hand on the throbbing spot down to his nape.

“Actually there is,” he said carefully.

Ser Davos motioned for the chair opposite him and Gendry gladly took a seat.

“What is it, Gendry?”

The Lord of Storm’s End had his curious eyes locked to the old man whom he considers as his father, his most trusted person in the world. He knew Ser Davos would tell him the truth if he only asked him sincerely.

“That man with the Queen in Winterfell, you introduced him to me,” he watched as Ser Davos knitted his brows together trying to identify the man he was talking about and finally realized who it was.

Ser Davos nodded, “I did.”

“He’s the King in the North?” Gendry asked uncertainly.

“He _was_,” Ser Davos emphasized the second word.

“What’s his name?”

“I can’t tell you that, and you know it,” Davos waved his hand in the air to dismiss the question.

“Well can you tell me who the little girl is?” Gendry asked sternly.

He fixed his eyes on Ser Davos and observed how he froze in his seat. Ser Davos inhaled deeply before release his breath heavily.

He shook his head to Gendry without looking at him, “You have to remember who she is, _by yourself_.”

Davos’s reaction says it all. That little girl played a vital role in his past. The thought made Gendry slam an open palm on the table.

“Tell me who she is?” he glowered.

The act didn’t bother the old man, already expecting his reaction. He squeezed his eyes shut before looking up to Gendry.

“Try to remember,” he spoke as softly as he could.

Gendry slammed his hand on the table again, louder this time, startling Ser Davos and he leaned back.

The Lord of Storm’s End immediately felt guilty for losing his patience knowing Ser Davos only wants what’s best for him.

He lowered his head, “I’m sorry,” he said meekly.

He felt Ser Davos shift from his seat, a hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright, lad.”

His tired eyes stared back at the man in front of him. “Can you please tell me who she is?” he pleaded.

Ser Davos hesitated for a while. He removed his hand from Gendry’s shoulder and sat back on his chair.

“What do you remember of her?”

Gendry furrowed his brows as he tried to remember.

“I remember her in the Winterfell, with you in that big tree. I remember her with Queen Sansa and that man you introduced me to and that big redheaded man in the ice while Arya watched over them. I remember Arya holding her while they sat on a featherbad…”

Ser Davos’s eyes brightened up, nodding eagerly to encourage him to say more, “What else, lad?”

“She called Arya mama...” the words came out as a whisper.

Gendry ran his hands on his face as the realization hit him hard.

Arya has a child.

** _Winterfell_ **

“Have we received a raven yet?”

“Arya, that’s the third time you asked me today. And no, no ravens,” the Queen was starting to get annoyed with her sister’s repetitive question.

She’s well aware that Arya’s worried. They immediately sent a reply to Ser Davos’s letter asking for more details to the situation and Gendry’s state.

It has been days, the blizzard had gone by yet they haven’t received anything, either from King’s Landing or Storm’s End.

Sansa had noticed how Arya would try to keep herself busy with Charlotte. Early in the morning, the two would be in the training grounds, Arya teaching her daughter how to water dance.

The Queen would observe from afar, smiling at her adorable niece.

In the afternoons, Arya would either be in the kitchens helping out or in the stables, caring for her horse. She’d let Charlotte play with the other children or sometimes sit with Sansa in her solar and watch her aunt knit.

The evenings were spent inside the castle. Supper is the time where most of the people in Winterfell gather in the dining hall to eat together. Arya would read a book to Charlotte or retell her stories before going to sleep.

Sansa once found Arya in the walls of the castle, looking over the landscape that’s mostly covered in thin layer of snow.

She stood by her sister’s side in silence until Arya spoke quietly, “When is he coming back?” she asked without taking her eyes off the darkness in front of them.

Sansa thought carefully for her response, not wanting to say the wrong words.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

“He said he’d write to Charlotte but he never did.”

“Arya-“

“He also promised he’d come back,” Arya finally faced her, her eyes brimming with tears.

“He will,” Sansa said positively.

“How do you know that?” Sansa watched as Arya’s lips trembled, wiping her tears away with her glove covered hand.

Sansa swallowed heavy, “Because he loves Charlotte. And he loves you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a long time to update. That's because I also had a long week.  
Thank you for the lovely comments. I noticed most of you are impatient to see our little family together again. We'll get there soon, I promise.
> 
> Unshameful plug: My latest AU (Doctor Arya, Drummer Gendry) entitle SUCKER PUNCH is finally out of the oven. Go check it out if you want. :)
> 
> Keep those kudos and comments coming. I tell you, it really uplifts my heart. You have no idea. <3


	14. Chapter 14

** _Storm’s End_ **

It took too much of his energy, Ser Davos concluded.

The look on Gendry’s face when he caught the facts made Ser Davos lower his head to avoid witnessing the young Lord crash in his seat. The destroyed look on his face made it more difficult for Ser Davos to hold himself and not scream on his face that the little girl he was remembering was his own.

But Ser Davos wasn’t even sure if Gendry remembered himself and Arya making that baby. No one knew what happened, except themselves.

Ser Davos heard the heavy footsteps stumping away. He only caught the slumped back of the Lord of Storm’s End as he left the great hall.

Not long after Gendry left, the Master of Ships received the fourth raven from Winterfell. It made the old man press his hands on his cheeks and drew in a long breath.

Hidden behind the name of the Queen in the North, he’s certain that the unwavering concern was from the bringer of dawn.

When the second letter came, Ser Davos was pleased at the thought that Arya had finally started showing her true feelings for the Lord of Storm’s End when he realized that Sansa wouldn’t be this impatient to hear from them.

But the self-control he had to manage had been exhausting him. He didn’t want to add more to the pile of predicaments placed on Arya and Sansa’s hands when one of the letters included the news of how bad Princess Charlotte had taken her first snowstorm. He almost dropped everything when he read that the little Princess was sick and had been asking for her papa. He had to stop his feet from running to Gendry knowing he’d be lost if he told him his daughter was suffering from a fever.

But the fourth letter wasn’t under the signature of the Queen in the North, but Arya herself.

The letter wasn’t very long but it was enough to make Ser Davos contemplate his next actions.

_Ser Davos,_

_Your last letter has brought more anguish to me than comfort. I am glad that you are back in Storm’s End and alive but I know that there is something you are not telling us._

_Gendry promised Charlotte he’ll write to her whenever he can and our daughter haven’t receive a single letter from her father, therefore confirming my theory that Gendry is not capable of writing because if he can, he would do it when it’s for Charlotte. If he can’t hold a quill on his own, he will make you write it for him._

_Please Ser Davos, if not for me, then for Charlotte. She has been looking for her father and it aches my heart to see my daughter desperately waiting to hear from him. _

_Her health is doing well and she’s back to her usual playfulness but by the end of the day, Choti would start to ask for Gendry. She misses him dearly, and so do I._

_Please tell Gendry that Charlotte is waiting for his return and she loves him so._

_We hope to receive a raven from you or Gendry soon._

_Arya Stark_

The guilt crept fast to Ser Davos as he reread the letter again and again, rubbing his forehead in agony.

He thought of the little Princess, and he could only imagine the sorrow in her pretty face knowing how much she adores her father.

But that said father doesn’t even remember who she was.

His thoughts brought him back to the devastated Lord. He had no idea what was running in Gendry’s head when he left except that they’re not joyful thoughts.

He spent most of his day thinking through his possible actions and weighing what would be best for Gendry.

It was after supper when he decided to pay Gendry a visit at his chambers. He never left the room since he went back after talking to Ser Davos and only asked for his work and food to be brought there.

When Ser Davos knocked on the door, he did not receive a response forcing him to knock again.

But when one of the guards told him that since this afternoon, the young Lord had denied all guests including the maid who was supposed to bring in his supper.

“Who was the last person to see him?” Ser Davos wondered.

The guard stood stiffly, and mumbled, “The maester.”

Ser Davos titled his head in wonder, thinking there might be something physically wrong with Gendry.

He knocked again. “Gendry, it’s me lad,” he announced.

When he tried to push the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief when nothing stopped him from entering.

Gendry was sitting near the hearth, eyes busy on the parchment he was reading.

“Lad-“

“She’s my daughter,” Gendry lifted his gaze to the old man with accusing eyes. “She’s my daughter and you didn’t tell me.” The scowl he gave almost made Ser Davos take a step back. The way his hands tightened into fists just showed how angry and disappointed he was at him.

Ser Davos breathed audibly as he walked closer to Gendry.

The Lord shoved his face in his hands as he felt the older man’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, lad,” Ser Davos started. “I wanted you to remember her by yourself. I knew you’d remember her, you just needed time.”

Gendry dropped his hand on the table and pulled out a letter and gave it to his most trusted person.

The old man’s eyes widened despite knowing who it was from. There’s no one else who would send a raven to Gendry that could tell him the truth except, “Arya.”

Gendry bore his eyes to him, “I only remember a few things about her.” It was not the first time Ser Davos had seen him broke down.

Before it was because his heart was shattered into million pieces when Arya did not accept his proposal and felt stupid for even asking her.

Now, it was so clear why his eyes pooled with tears; frustration, longing and guilt.

Ser Davos sat on the chair beside the weeping Lord who took the parchment back from his hands, reading the letter again.

“Her name’s Charlotte,” he said weakly.

Ser Davos nodded, “Aye. But you call her-“

“Little one,” Gendry continued for him. “That I can remember.”

A smile slowly grew on the older man’s face, glad to know that at least _that_ Gendry can remember.

“What else can you recall of her?”

Gendry narrowed his eyes on the letter as if his memories were written there.

He rubbed his temples and shut his eyes close, replaying the memories in his mind, “I remember her face, clearly,” his eyes opened all of a sudden and flickered with glee. “She has my eyes and hair. But she has Arya's nose and lips,” a light chuckle left his lips.

“She does,” Ser Davos justified. “And she loves the forge, just like you.”

Gendry snapped his head to Ser Davos with a pleased grin, “She does?”

“And she likes to play with swords.”

“Just like her mother,” Gendry added. “I remember her with Arya in Winterfell.”

Ser Davos patted him on the back, “That’s good progress.”

But then the delight on Gendry’s face was washed away as he knitted his brows together. He took the parchment that Arya sent, rereading the words. “They’re waiting for me.”

Ser Davos searched for his eyes and asked, “Why don’t you look happy?”

“I still don’t remember everything.”

Ser Davos understood. Gendry was afraid he might disappoint Charlotte and Arya with his lack of memory and it’s making him feel devastated again.

He clapped Gendry’s back again and suggested, “Why don’t we tell Arya what happened? Then we’ll go from there?”

** **

** _ Winterfell_ **

“Choti, do you want to come with me?” Arya stretched out her hand for her daughter to take.

Sansa watched from her table as Arya tightened Charlotte’s cloak.

“Where are you going?” the Queen asked.

“The Godswood. Would you like to come?”

Ever since they’ve received the letter from Ser Davos stating that they’re back in Storm’s End, Sansa had noticed that Arya’s been spending quite some time in the Godswood.

She’s not certain if her younger sister still prayed to the Old Gods, she’s not even sure if Arya even has a God. She herself had stopped praying and the Weirwood tree now only stands as a reminder of the Gods their family used to believe in; a mere token of their parents’ ghosts.

Sansa pondered for a moment before deciding she’d better give the mother and daughter some time alone. The torment still etched on Arya’s face as Charlotte never failed to ask for her father everyday.

The Queen pulled out a small smile for her sister and niece, “You two go. I have to talk to the cooks later.”

Arya answered with a stiff nod and led Charlotte out of the Queen’s library.

** _The Godswood of Winterfell_ **

The thin covering of snow made it easier for the little girl to chase after her mother. She had her Little Needle in one hand as she peeked over a tree where she believed her mother stood behind. But a few playful pokes from her back made the little Princess realize that she was wrong.

Arya let the tips of her fingers run on the sides of her daughter’s body, tickling her. Loud screeching echoed in the Godswood as Charlotte laughed in her mother’s arms.

This was where Arya would find her father when she was little. Ned would ask her to pray with him. They’d pray for the family, for the northerners, for the whole of Westeros.

Memories of when she was with Bran and Rickon playing by the small pond, splashing each other with water as Sansa complained of how her dress would get wet. Her older brothers would come marching in with Theon. They’d sit under the big Weirwood tree, listening to Robb and Jon tell stories.

And now she can share this wonderful place with her own daughter whilst the back of her mind thinks of Gendry’s whereabouts.

Charlotte slipped away from her mother’s hold allowing her to escape from her hold. The little girl loved this game. Before it would be crates, barrels and men who’d stand as obstacles for her as her mother chase after her in their ship. Now it was big logs, rocks and small mountains of snow. Charlotte enjoyed it just the same.

Arya quickly got her feet on the ground to go after her daughter. She heard the loud squeal coming not far from her, taking note of the shadow on the ground.

“There you are!” she grabbed on the little arm that held the miniature sword.

Charlotte’s laughter made Arya smile even brighter.

“Come on now, Choti.” She guided the little girl back to the big tree, “You got mama tired.”

“I’m sorry,” replied the little girl who still had a trace of her laughter on her face.

Arya sat comfortably on the base of the tree, Charlotte on her lap with a cheek pressed on her mother’s chest.

They sat in silence, enjoying the moment they could share together. Arya would ask the little girl about her friends and the little Princess would tell her stories of how they tried to chase a chicken, and when she and her friends helped feed the horses in the stables.

Arya stroke her daughter’s dark hair as she listened until the moment was cut short by the heavy footsteps of the maester.

“A raven, from Storm’s End.”

Arya held her breath as she took the parchment from Maester Wolkan. Charlotte had sat up straight and watched her mother with careful eyes.

Arya’s hands trembled as she unrolled the scroll, giving her daughter a hopeful yet anxious smile.

The first thing she noticed was how the letter was divided into two parts. The first half, addressed to her and the second half to Charlotte.

She read the second half first knowing how eager her daughter was, she noticed the little girl’s fidgeting and her expectant eyes on the letter.

Finally, Charlotte asked, “Papa?”

Arya kissed the crown of her head, “Yes.”

She cradled the little girl as she read the letter her father wrote for her.

Charlotte listened intently as Arya read the words slowly. The little girl would look up gleefully when she heard words that said, _I miss you_, _I love you_, _I’ll be with you soon_ and whenever her father calls her _little one_.

Gendry promised in his letter he’ll be heading back to Winterfell as soon as he can.

He asked her to look after her mother which made the little Princess giggle.

Arya was beaming throughout her reading.

“Papa will come?” Charlotte asked excitedly when she finished.

Arya nodded vigorously and kissed her pink cheek.

The little Princess pounced on her mother with an embrace making Arya chuckled as she returned the hug.

“You can’t wait to see your papa, huh Choti?”

The girl’s face was still nuzzled on her mother’s shoulder when she bobbed her head. “Can we go to the big ice with papa?” she pulled back and stared on her mother with expectant eyes. “Can we see Uncle Jon and Ghost and Tormund?” she asked with a big grin on her face. She crushed her mother’s face with her small hands muffling the laughed that Arya bellowed.

Arya nodded as she raked her fingers through her daughter’s hair.

“We’ll have to ask aunt Sansa with your second request though,” with that, Charlotte hopped down from her mother’s lap and ran inside the castle. Arya chuckled knowing where the little girl was heading.

Her attention was brought back to the parchment in her hand, remembering that Gendry had wrote something for her.

She nervously opened the scroll again, not knowing what to expect.

She gasped and held her breath, and slapped a hand over hear mouth as her eyes ran through the words describing the short battle that happened in the Narrow Sea and what came after it. Her hands started to shake as she read how Gendry had taken a hard hit on the head and lost his memory.

The sobs came when Gendry wrote down how he felt sorry, guilty and frustrated that he can’t remember everything - from his past, to the names of Lords and Ladies in Westeros, to some moments he shared with her and Charlotte. Gendry expressed in his letter how worried he was that he might disappoint his own daughter if there are things he can’t remember about her, that he’s desperate to see her but he’s afraid.

The letter included a few things that Gendry can recall about her and his little one.

She silently let the tears of love and concern roll down her cheeks, stopping her cries by biting down her lip.

Arya heard the crunching of snow as someone walked into the Godswood.

Sansa caught sight of her state and rushed to her side.

The Queen held her sister, an arm wrapped around her body. “I received a raven from Ser Davos. Charlotte came to me saying her papa’s coming back.” Sansa studied her sister’s face.

“What is it, Arya?”

The she-wolf showed the letter to her sister, Sansa took it anxiously from her hand and quickly read through the letter.

She inhaled sharply; Arya knew which part she was reading then.

She wiped her tears with her arm and cleared her throat as she straightened up.

“I have to find Charlotte. She needs to eat her supper.”

“She’s with Marie in the dining hall,” the Queen stood up as well. “Let’s join them.”

Arya closed her eyes tightly before leading the way into the castle.

They found Charlotte happily munching on her cheese with Marie on her side. Arya smiled weakly at the sight of her happy daughter knowing full well what caused such gleeful vision.

Sansa sat on her seat silently after giving Charlotte a small kiss on her head.

“Aunt Sansa said we can see Uncle Jon in two moon’s turn,” the little girl took another bite of her food as she watched her mother fill her plate.

“That won’t be long,” Arya replied, trying her best to sound as eager as her daughter.

“Papa will be here in one moon’s turn, right mama?” Arya froze from breaking her bread in half. She stiffly turned her head to see Sansa’s reaction.

The Queen took a sip of her wine before answering for her sister, “Maybe, my sweet. We can’t tell.”

“Maybe in two weeks?” Charlotte’s eyes were as wide as the pieces of fruit on her platter.

“Umm,” Arya shifted on her seat, beside her daughter. “We don’t know yet, Choti. Let’s just wait patiently, alright?”

The little girl was quick to make out of her mother’s agitation.

“Mama?” she asked worriedly.

Arya’s shoulders slumped as she watched her daughter’s face quickly turned from happy to sad.

“We’ll talk about it later after supper. Now finish you food,” she eyed the untouched piece of bread on the table.

As soon as Charlotte was settled on the featherbed, Arya climbed beside her.

The little girl’s face rested on her mother’s chest as Arya stoke her daughter’s hair.

“Choti?”

She felt Charlotte shuffle on her side, looking up to her expectantly.

“Papa will be coming back.”

A smile quickly grew on the girl’s face. Arya couldn’t help but mirror the grin.

Then she exhaled heavily at the words she’s about to say.

“Remember when papa had to help the stormlanders?”

Charlotte nodded.

“Well something not good happened and papa had to fight the bad people.”

Her daughter pushed her brows together in confusion.

“Well, papa had to do some things to help protect the stormlanders and because of that…” she swallowed hard before continuing. “Papa was hurt.”

Charlotte bolted up into a sitting position, her body twisting to see her mother’s face.

“Papa is hurt?”

“Well not anymore... I think,” she said the last words in a whisper.

Arya sat up to pull Charlotte into her hold.

“But there’s something you need to help mama with, alright?”

Charlotte questioning gaze made her hesitant to say her request.

She kissed the flushed cold cheeks of her daughter, then her nose, followed by her forehead making the little girl giggle.

“Choti listen. Papa can’t remember a few things,” she said slowly, Charlotte looked confused again. “Will you help mama tell stories to papa when he’s back?”

When she heard the words stories Charlotte perched up from her place on the featherbed.

“The Pack?” she asked cheerfully.

Arya ran her hand through Charlotte’s face and nodded.

“The Pack, _our_ Pack, what happened in the forge when you helped papa with the pommel, your name-day at the big ice, you playing with your friends and aunt Sansa, all the things that had happened in our journey in the ship, you can tell all of that to your father when he’s back. Can you do that?”

Charlotte bobbed her head heartily.

Arya chuckled at the sight, and kissed her forehead once more.

“Alright, time for you to sleep.”

She tucked in her daughter, gave one more kiss before whispering, “Good night, my love. Mama and papa love you.”

Arya closed the door as quietly as she could, and released a heavy sigh.

** **

** _Storm’s End_ **

Lord Baratheon’s men were busy packing up supplies and preparing horses for their journey to Winterfell.

Gendry helped carry saddles, the most heavy lifting he could do with his injuries; Ser Davos dictating men what to do and checking his list from time to time.

Hot Pie walked out of the kitchen pulling a crate, Gendry couldn’t help but laugh knowing what’s inside.

“Do you think Charlotte liked my wolf bread?” he asked Gendry who offered to help.

“I think she loved it,” Gendry said with a smile, though he doesn’t have any memory of the little girl munching on the said type of bread.

Worry flooded over him again.

He had been hesitant with this trip but the thought of seeing Charlotte and Arya had made him throw that away. But now his agitation had come back.

The questions came back like an avalanche as he watched the people around him.

Busy preparing for a trip he dreaded but also anticipated.

He felt Ser Davos stand on his side and rested a hand on his tensed shoulder, “Don’t worry, lad. It will be alright.”

“I still hope you’d come with us,” he sounded almost pleading.

Ser Davos chuckled, “That friend of yours will be with you and I need to be back in King’s Landing to give my report to the council.” He clapped Gendry’s shoulder one more time before walking back inside the castle, leaving Gendry and his thoughts in the middle of Storm’s End’s courtyard.

** _The King’s Road_ **

The trip North thankfully wasn’t bad. Gendry was grateful that the weather was on their side the whole journey.

The only things that bothered him, was his still aching head and the bruise on his abdomen that doesn’t seem to heal, and his thoughts of Arya and Charlotte.

Gendry had good company as he headed to Winterfell. Hot Pie always blabbered about his food, which caught Gendry’s interest sometimes.

The men with him weren’t bad. They were the same soldiers who travelled with him to Winterfell and the Narrow Sea. These men were survivors, just like him.

The dark skies would bring out stories as they huddle around the fire at night. Some were happy, some were not but it kept everyone entertained and that was enough.

The ride to Winterfell took them a moon’s turn.

As they marched in the King’s Road, Gendy could see the stone walls of the fortress where they fought off the dead, Arya killing the Night King, ending everything in just a single plunge with her dagger.

Gendry’s mouth twitched upright at the thought of the badass warrior that was the mother of his daughter.

As they reached Winter Town, northerners gathered on the street to greet the stormlanders and their Lord.

Gendry’s felt warm at the welcome and even hopped off his horse to greet them; shaking hands and talking to some, all the while taking short steps towards the great castle ahead.

As they came closer to the gates, he felt Hot Pie on his side.

His friend gave him one encouraging smile before the gates opened for the Lord of Storm’s End.

** _Winterfell_ **

Arya stamped her foot on the ground as she watched Charlotte play with her Little Needle; telling her mother that she will show her her water dace.

Arya had no idea why she felt frantic. She woke up that morning to a dream of Charlotte and her in the frozen lake, Sansa and Gendry on the clearing talking happily as they watched the mother and daughter glide on the ice.

She felt restless as she broke her fast and practiced in the practice yard that morning. She helped Sansa with tasks, balancing books by midday while kneading her lip with her teeth.

“Are you alright?” Sansa asked her when she noticed her sister’s fidgeting.

Arya brushed off the question and returned on crouching down over the table filled with books and parchment.

She decided Charlotte would be her best distraction, thus the scene in the yard.

Charlotte swirling around with the sword her father made her, Arya watching not far away.

The guards’ yelling caught her interest, and so did Charlotte’s.

Stablemen and stewards rushed to the gates to welcome the guests.

Charlotte turned her gaze to her mother who rushed to her side to take her hand and both hastily marched towards the entrance of their home.

Arya only heard Charlotte’s happy squeal as she felt her release her hold and ran to her father.

Arya didn’t miss the way Gendry froze at the sight of his daughter, or how stiffly he wrapped his arms around her.

She also didn’t miss how he closed his eyes tenderly as he lifted Charlotte off the ground, a big smile plastered on his beautiful face.

Arya let her legs drag her to the reunion that was happening in front of her.

Then she felt Gendry’s arm on her waist pulling her to his chest.

She joined the embrace, with her daughter and the man she loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted this to be a longer chapter but I don't have enough time, therefor it will end here.
> 
> The much-needed reunion is here you guys, next chapter will be an interesting one but I'm not sure when I'll be posting it cause I'm going out of town for a check-up. (Fingers and toes crossed that I'm getting better but I doubt that. lol)
> 
> So, predictions of how Gendry's return will be like for Our Little Pack? ;)


	15. Chapter 15

** _Winterfell_ **

The scene in the courtyard made the Queen in the North pause from walking closer to the new arrivals.

A quiet and soft smile appeared on her lips, watching Arya burry her face to Gendry’s chest whilst the Lord held their daughter with one arm, the other wrapping her sister’s body close to his.

Her strides were small, giving them more time to be reunited. The smile on her face never wavered as she got closer.

Charlotte was first to lift her head from her father’s shoulder and Arya followed. Sansa didn’t miss the blissful look on her sister’s face; something she hadn’t seen in a long time and a laugh escaped her lips when Charlotte grabbed Gendry’s face with both hands.

Sansa walked closer and heard the little girl excitedly giggle, “Papa miss Charlotte?”

There was a second of silence, Gendry’s eyes flickered nervously something that both Arya and Sansa didn’t miss. But the grin on the man’s face washed their worry away as he moved his head to place a kiss on his daughter’s palm, “Papa missed you so much…”

Charlotte’s eyes were wide open in anticipation, waiting for her father to continue. The two Starks knew what the girl was waiting to hear.

Arya squeezed her arm around Gendry harder, hoping he’d understand the gesture.

Gendry looked down on her, an arm still around her small frame.

Arya was about to mouth the words as she stared back but Gendry had moved his gaze to the still awaiting girl, “I missed you dearly, little one.” He placed a lingering kiss on Charlotte’s forehead and only pulled away when Charlotte squirmed in his hold.

He chuckled, looking over to Arya whose eyes never left his face.

The Queen cleared her throat, breaking Arya and Gendry from their mutual reverie.

Arya quickly stepped back, lowering her head, but Sansa new a smile still lurked on her face making the Queen chuckle.

“Welcome back to Winterfell, Lord Baratheon,” she greeted as Gendry stood stiffly and gave her a curt nod.

“Thank you, Queen Sansa. I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m sure you are, and so is my sister and niece,” she waved a hand to Charlotte who clutched on to her father tightly.

Gendry held Charlotte closer to him; delight loomed on his face before it faltered slowly.

Sansa gave him a questioning look, but Gendry shook his head not wanting to discuss his own misgivings with the rest of Winterfell surrounding them.

The Queen was quick to understand, “Why don’t we get ourselves warm inside the castle? I’m sure supper is almost ready.”

Arya eyed their exchange; she wanted to tell Gendry that everything will be fine but he had walked side-by-side with Sansa, Charlotte clapping her hands for food.

By the Queen’s request, the Lord of Storm’s End sat in the high table with the Queen, Arya, and Charlotte.

Marie would usually sit on Charlotte’s one side but the young woman was more than happy to sit with the other ladies of Winterfell.

“How was your journey, Lord Gendry?” the Queen asked after taking a bite of her food, leaning forward to see the young Lord who was seated on the other end of the table.

Gendry helped his daughter scoop some of her soup and answered, “The weather was on our side, thankfully. Please, Gendry would be fine Queen Sansa.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sansa offered a genuine smile to him. “And call me Sansa if you want me to call you Gendry.”

“I couldn’t-“

Sansa’s stern eyes bore into his.

Gendry swallowed hard before nodding forcefully.

“Good,” Sansa turned back to her food with a grin. Arya chuckled on her side.

The meal went calmly, stormlanders and northerners chatting away as they enjoyed their supper.

Hot Pie strutted proudly to the high table with two loaves of his famed wolf bread.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Hot Pie,” Arya stood from her seat and rounded the table to give her old friend an embrace.

“You’re not the only one, who’s happy that he’s back,” the Queen stated. “Many northerners missed your baking. I hope you could impart those skills to my bakers,” Sansa smiled kindly and laughed when Hot Pie’s face turned red.

“I’d be honored, Queen Sansa.” He bowed once, then twice. The highborns on the table chuckled at his antics.

Hot Pie had a satisfied look brimming on his face as he walked back to his table when he saw Charlotte happily munching on her wolf bread.

As soon as Arya was seated again, Gendry inclined backward so he could see her. She was on the other side of their daughter. “Arya?” he called softly.

Arya stopped her chewing and hastily shoved the chicken down her throat. She tried to ignore the goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms when she heard Gendry spoke her name for the first time since he arrived.

“Yes?”

“Would it be alright if I tuck Charlotte in tonight?”

The little girl perked at the question, making her parents titter.

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” they exchanged gapes longer than they were supposed to. Arya was the first to look away, eager to finish her food.

“I’ll come to your room to bid you goodnight, Choti. Your father will be there to help you get ready for bed.” She patted her daughter’s head lightly; the little girl bobbed her head in response.

When Arya entered Charlotte’s chambers that night, she found her and Gendry by the small hearth.

Charlotte sat on her father’s crossed legs, her back resting on his chest.

The two didn’t notice her walk in; sneakily closing the door behind her, she listened to the conversation they shared.

“Does it have a name?” Gendry wondered.

“Little Needle,” Charlotte answered.

“Just like mama’s Needle.”

“Oh. Right. Like… Like her Needle.” Gendry’s stutter was obvious enough for Arya to notice, but not Charlotte.

“Mama and Aunt Sansa said we can visit Uncle Jon and Tormund,” the little girl stated. “We can go in a moon’s turn.” She shifted on her father’s lap to look up to him excitedly.

“Uncle Jon? Tormund?” Arya couldn’t see his face fully but she can tell that he’s confused by the sound of his voice.

“In Castle Black,” Charlotte added.

Gendry went silent for a moment, Charlotte looking up to him warily.

“Papa?”

“Hmm?” Charlotte’s voice brought him back to the present and leaving the names he just heard in the back of his mind.

“Can we go to the big ice tomorrow?” the little girl requested.

“What big ice?” Gendry inquired.

“The one from my name-day.”

Gendry ran a frustrated hand over his face and Arya knew it was probably time for her to interrupt.

She strode to them with loud steps to announce her presence making the pair turn around to see her.

Gendry seemed alleviated to see her.

“Time for bed, Choti.”

The little girl quickly stood up and ran to her featherbed.

Her father followed after her, head hung low.

Arya trailed him with her eyes before sitting on the edge of Charlotte’s bed, opposite to Gendry.

“Can we go to the big ice tomorrow, mama?”

Arya studied Gendy’s reaction to the question. _He’s still thinking where that place is._

“In a few days, Choti. We need to send someone to see if it’s safe for us to visit again.”

She kissed the crown of her daughter’s head and pulled the thick blankets to her chin.

“Now do you want to be the one to tell the story of the Pack?” Arya suggested, eyeing Gendry once more. “I’m sure your father would love to hear it again.”

She wasn’t sure if Gendry remembered that story, but by the crease on his forehead, she realized it’s another memory they had to remind him.

Charlotte peered on her parents happily before she started to narrate the story.

Gendry listened intently as Arya observed his features.

He looked tired and anxious. She noticed how he didn’t give his full weight in his side as he laid beside Charlotte. His eyes though were full of interest, longing, and love. The way he furrowed his brows showed his disappointment to himself. He’s trying but it was not enough and it’s making him mad.

But he listened to Charlotte’s every word whilst he raked his brain as to when he first heard of it.

As soon as the little girl finished her story, Gendry beamed brightly to her and kissed her cheek.

“Our pack is mama, papa, and Charlotte,” the little girl pulled her hand out from the blanket to point each person in the room.

Arya felt Gendry’s eyes on her and she returned the gaze with a weak smile.

“You’re right, Choti,” Arya agreed, her eyes still locked to Gendry’s. “Our little pack,” she moved her sight to the little girl who was holding out a yawn behind her grin.

Arya chuckled.

“Time for you to sleep,” she kissed Charlotte’s forehead, Gendry did the same.

“Good night, little one,” he whispered softly. “I love you.”

“Good night, papa,” Charlotte forced a sleepy smile, “I love you.”

The sight in front of Arya made her heart swell. Her happiness showed without a hit of distress.

“Good night, mama. I love you.”

“I love you, Choti. Good night.”

Arya ran a hand over her hair before leaving a soft kiss on her daughter’s cheek.

Carefully, she and Gendry rose up from their places and walked out of the chambers in silence. As soon as the door was closed, Arya couldn’t help herself but pull the man in a tight embrace.

Gendry was taken aback by the action, but once he caught up with the moment, he cautiously wrapped his own arms around her.

“I’m sorry,” Arya’s voice quivered.

“You didn’t do anything.”

Arya shook her head that was still on his shoulder, “I did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have. Horrible things I could never forgive myself-“

“Shhh,” Gendry hushed. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m the one that needs your forgiveness.”

Arya harshly backed away from him, frowning.

“Why would I have to forgive you?”

“I didn’t write-“

“That’s because you were hurt,” she answered strongly.

Despite her retort, Gendry still looked guilty, running a hand on the back of his head.

“Still, you and Charlotte waited-“

“You couldn’t remember,” she raised her voice as she stopped him again.

“And I’m sorry.”

Arya stepped closer to him and cupped his face with her warm hands. She tried to catch his eyes that were looking down on the ground.

“Gendry, listen to me.”

He stared in her steel-colored eyes and listened to her firm words.

“You didn’t wish for your memories to falter. You didn’t ask to forget about your own daughter. None of it was your fault. So don’t be sorry,” Arya said with conviction. “Do not blame yourself, Gendry,” she sounded like she was pleading; asking him to stop tormenting himself for what happened.

He drew in a long breath and shut his eyes tightly. He kept his eyes closed even after he felt Arya’s forehead resting on his.

“I’m just happy you’re back,” the words were so light and genuine.

Gendry opened his eyes and was surprised to see Arya had hers closed and a single tear painted her cheek.

He wiped it away with his thumb making Arya open her eyes to stare back at him. He pulled his head away and waited for her to drop her hands from his face, but she never did.

“Come with me tomorrow. Charlotte can stay with Sansa and Marie while we go see the frozen lake,” her simple invitation had more to it and Arya made sure it was evident.

“I can help you remember, recall things that happened.”

“Davos said I should try to remember them myself.”

“Fuck what he said.”

Gendry eyes went round, but when he saw Arya’s lips twitch upwards, he couldn’t help but mirror the smirk.

“So, the frozen lake?”

Gendry nodded.

Arya took a step back, retrieving her hands from holding his cheeks. She smiled reservedly before bidding him goodnight.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, bull.”

“Good night, Arya.”

She took two more steps backwards before turning on her heels and headed to her chambers.

It took a lot of convincing and tears before Arya and Gendry could leave the grounds of Winterfell.

Gendry was gone for some time and for Charlotte to see him leave again even for just half a day, it made the little girl wary.

“We will be back before supper,” Gendry held her in a tight embrace, balancing himself on the ground with one knee. “I promise.”

“And mama?” Charlotte asked through her sobs.

“Mama will come back with papa,” Arya crouched down so she too could enfold Charlotte.

Giving one last tight squeeze, Arya stood back up and watched Sansa take Charlotte’s hand.

“We will be heading back before sundown,” she promised her sister.

She hopped up on her horse, Gendry doing the same and waved to the company that was watching them both stride out of the gates.

“She’s just afraid you wouldn’t come back,” Arya spoke as they rode towards the woodland.

She heard Gendry breathe in deeply before answering, “I know. I probably broke her trust the last time-“

“Stop it,” Arya barked. “I told you, none of that again.” She was starting to lose her patience with this guilt-filled Gendry, so she guided her horse to walk side-by-side with Gendry’s and threw a punch on his arm as soon as she was near enough.

“Ow!” Gendry rubbed his arm.

“Say something like that again and I’ll do more than just punch you,” Arya warned before applying more pressure on her leg to make her horse gallop away.

She heard Gendry laugh behind her and as much as she wanted to ignore him, she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face.

** _Wolfswood, The North_ **

Gendry caught up with her once they were in the woods.

It was still cold, snow falling slowly; coating what should have been dark brown soil with white cold ice. Winter was still in full force. Everyone assumed that if they killed the Night King, the North would experience all four seasons again. But it had been years since the battle yet the snow continued to fall down from the skies. The northerners were just thankful it wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

Arya caught sight of the Lord of Storm’s End shiver from atop of his horse. She bit her lip hard to refrain herself from laughing out loud.

Gendry noticed.

“What?” his brows drew together in question.

Arya chuckled, “This is your third time in the North yet you still quiver in the cold.”

Gendry rolled his eyes at the statement. It was true, but what does she expect?

“I was born down South. Grew up, down South. Of course, it will not be easy for me to get used to the cold like this.”

“Exactly,” was Arya’s quick reply before laughing again.

They were getting deeper into the forest, enjoying the silence around them. Only the footsteps of the rushing animals and wheezing of the wind can be heard.

Gendry stroke his growing stubble and cleared his throat.

“I remember seeing snow for the first time,” he peered over to Arya. “I was with Jon Snow, your brother.”

Arya wasn’t sure if she wanted to correct Gendry, that she should tell him Jon wasn’t really her brother. But in her heart, he still is and it’s better for the rest of the world to know him as her brother. But Gendry… He isn’t just someone from the world. He’s Gendry, the father of her daughter and the man she believed had taken her heart in a whole different way.

But it’s not the time for revelations like that, not when he’s trying to recall a memory he might have forgotten too.

She stayed silent, allowing him to continue.

“I remember I was with him and Ser Beric, Thoros and that redheaded man. Big man.”

“Tormund, his name is Tormund and he’s Jon’s friend,” Arya filled in.

Gendry sniffed harshly. “Right,” he mumbled.

When he didn’t say more, Arya decided it was better to probe him.

“What else?” she asked cautiously.

His mouth was set in a hard line, thinking. He cleared his throat as he summoned the memory back in his mind.

“The Hound was there too, and a friend of the Dragon Queen. I remember we were on a mission to collect a white walker. But before we could capture one, we had to fight a group of them.”

He inclined his head remembering what happened.

“They asked me to run back to the Wall to send a raven.”

“You remember quite a lot,” Arya consoled.

Gendry gave a half-smile and chuckled.

“Davos said I remember most of the things that had happened years ago. It’s mostly the events that had happened in the past months that I don’t clearly remember. That includes-“

“Charlotte,” Arya finished for him.

And before he could go all sour one more time, Arya had spoken again. “We’re almost there.”

The layer of snow was thicker when they reached the clearing, with only a few trees around.

They both came down from their horses and walked closer to the frozen lake.

It looked exactly the same from Gendry’s memories.

“So we celebrated Charlotte’s name-day here?”

Arya hummed in reply.

They admired the scene before them in stillness, except for the gentle noises from the leaves that swayed along with the breeze.

The frozen lake was clear and white like a glass marble, encircled with trees dusted with snow.

Arya mindlessly took a step forward, one after another until she was standing on the ice.

She walked further into the middle of the frozen lake and whirled around when she felt Gendry’s presence behind her.

“Charlotte received her first sled from Jon and Tormund,” Arya beamed.

“I think I remember that.”

“What else do you remember from that day?”

Gendry took a glimpse of his surroundings, urging his brain to cooperate with him.

He screwed up his face and said, “It wasn’t just us. Lord Tyrion was here, Hot Pie and Ser Brienne.”

“And?” Arya urged.

“Charlotte was playing with us,” he glanced to her before returning his sight on the clear space in front of them. “And with your siblings and that Torm-,” his eyes went wide as if he just realized something. “There was a wolf. Ghost!” Gendry sounded so thrilled, Arya giggled on his side as she watched him.

They went back in the clearing, sitting on the freezing ground that they rid of snow.

They worked together in retrieving Gendry’s memories when he came to Winterfell months ago. Arya shared more stories from her travels with Charlotte but only the ones that she had mentioned before. She would unravel more in the future with Charlotte, knowing her daughter would love to tell them to her father herself.

They went further back in the past, talking about the War of the Five Kings, to the battle against the Night King and the White Walkers, choosing to skip the night where they laid in sacks of grain while holding each other as they waited for death to come.

Arya helped Gendry remember what happened when he met Davos and was glad to know he remembered most of it even though it pained her to see Gendry reminisce the time when Melisandre took him captive and assaulted him.

“It wouldn’t have happened if we left the Brotherhood. She wouldn’t have captured you,” the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them.

Gendry snapped his head to her in bewilderment. His eyes narrowed on her face as he contemplated on her words, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, if she’s angry or if she's just trying to make him feel bad for his bad decisions.

“You know I remember most of what happened during our time with the Brotherhood,” he contended.

“I know,” Arya simply answered as she stood up from the ground. “I know you remember how you chose them over me,” she snorted and walked away from him.

He too got on his feet and follow her.

“Arya, listen,” he grabbed her arm to reel her around and face him. He was not surprised that somehow there was a glint of anger in Arya’s eyes when she stared back at him, her expression hardened.

“I had to let you go that night. I had to choose them over you because-“

“I asked you to come to Winterfell with me,” Arya screamed at his face. “But instead, you wanted to stay with the Brotherhood and got yourself taken by the Red Woman.”

“I know what I did, alright,” he heaved a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I do not regret that decision.”

This was one of the very few moments that Arya regretted being a facelessman. She wished she could pretend that he was lying, that he hadn’t meant what he said. But Gendry was telling the truth and she hated him.

Arya hated him. She hated him for letting her go.

That night, she realized and accepted that she was just a mere friend to Gendry just like how Hot Pie was to him. That night, when he reminded her of their differences, she hated him for thinking that their social classes mattered to her when it was clear as daylight that she doesn’t give a fuck if she’s the daughter of a Lord and he’s a lowborn bastard. That night, she hated him for rejecting her offer to be his family when he told her he never had one and rather have the Brotherhood as his family than her.

That feeling riled up on her skin as she watched Gendry lean on a tree, lowering his head and looked away from her.

Her anger, bitterness and jealousy got the best of her. 

“So you enjoyed being kidnapped and stripped down by-“

“If I wasn’t taken by her I would never have met Davos,” he didn’t let her finish. “And you’d never have met the Hound. If I went with you I knew I wouldn’t be able to take care of you and look after you the same way Sandor did. We wouldn’t have survived out there if it was just the two of us.”

“You don’t know that,” her voice shuddered, all the emotions coming back to her. This time, the anger, bitterness, and jealousy she felt subdued, instead she felt stupid. If only she begged enough, he could have been with her and Sandor. And the thought of Sandor made her more emotional.

He asked her to choose to live. If it weren’t for him, she would never have Charlotte and whatever life she had now.

“I do know that, Arya,” Gendry rubbed a hand on his temple with Arya standing in front of him, eyes swimming in tears, breathing heavily as she tried to stop them from spilling down her face.

“I couldn’t protect you and I knew that. And I hated myself for that,” he looked up to her and held her gaze. He walked away from the tree he was leaning on and crossed the path between them.

“Sandor saved you from me."

“That’s not true,” Arya argued heatedly.

“It is. But you know what? It’s different now,” he said in a voice soft with affection. “I can protect you and Charlotte now. I’ll do anything for both of you, even though I know very well you can protect yourself without my help," he chuckled lightly and went on. "I’d still be there for you, Arya.”

When he brushed his thumb on her cheek, Arya finally realized that she had failed. The tenderness and honesty of his words melted her heart. She let herself be carried away by his warmth, letting him pull her in his arms.

“But every moment I shared with you, from the time Yoren had taken us for the Watch, to the torturous days we were in Harrenhal, until the day we parted in the Riverlands, those were the moments I will never forget.”

“You're lying,” Arya weakly thumped his chest.

Gendry chuckled, “Never.”

“And I will never forget the night we shared together, the night we made the most perfect thing in the world,” Arya held him tighter, burying her face deeper on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you both needed me.”

“But you’re here now,” Arya whispered. She felt him tilt his head to place a kiss on her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!!! I was so excited to write this chapter. A part of it was written months ago when I drafted this fic and I'm just so happy I get to finally share it.
> 
> Again, THANK YOU for the comments. I shall reply to the unanswered ones once I'm up in the morning.  
I really appreciate them and they encourage me to write more. I've been so distracted lately but thank heavens I'm starting to get back on track.
> 
> So? How's the reunion chapter? Now that Arya and Gendry are somehow 'together', what do you think will happen? ;)


	16. Chapter 16

** _Winterfell_ **

The sun was starting to set when they found Charlotte running to their direction, clumsily hopping down from the barrel she was perched on.

As Arya expected, the little tackled her father first. Her contagious giggles echoed in the yard.

“Can we go to the big ice, papa?”

Gendry laughed at the lack of greeting.

“Well hello to you too,” he poked her little button nose. “Yes, we can, maybe in a fortnight.”

Charlotte whined and dramatically slouched on her father’s arms. “But I want to go tomorrow.”

Arya rolled her eyes and stood beside her, ruffling her hair, “Patience, Choti. Promise you’ll be a good girl and we might go to the frozen lake sooner than a fortnight.” She kissed the top of her daughter’s head and called out, “Come now, time for supper.”

The little Princess was still sulking during supper. Her mother ignored the act while Gendry busied himself soothing the girl.

Sansa smiled to herself at the sight, her sister’s own little pack.

“Do you want to go camp instead, my sweet?” Sansa suggested.

“What?!”

“Yes!”

Arya snapped her head to her sister and Charlotte was already on her Aunt’s lap. The Queen smoothed her much-wrinkled dress.

Arya was scrapping the end on her fork on the wooden table in vexation. She felt Gendry take Charlotte’s seat beside her.

“Camp?” He asked.

“I don’t know what in the seven hells my sister is talking about,” she hissed.

“Why don’t we call the maids and have them help us build tents and fire outside in the Godswood,” Sansa raised her hand to call for someone and gave her orders.

Charlotte jumped off of her lap and grabbed her parents’ hands and pulled them out of their chairs.

“Come on mama, we need to put on thicker clothes!” seeing that her efforts were no use, she left her parents in the dining hall and ran off to her room, Marie rushing after her.

Arya shook her head, burning her sister with her deadly glare.

Sansa brushed her off, “Oh Arya. I thought you’re the adventurous one?” she cackled.

And hours later, they were all seated on the cold shoveled ground, surrounding the fire in the center.

Charlotte tucked herself in between her mother’s legs; her hand fiddling with her father’s outstretched hand. Gendry sat close to Arya letting her lean on him as they listened to Marick, one of Gendry’s guards tell the story of the young maiden of Storm’s End.

Then it was Marie’s turn to talk about the story of the mischievous man from Essos.

Sansa shared the story of a man, playful and brave, the hero of the Iron Islands.

Arya saw the tears on her corner of her sister’s eyes. She had told her about how Theon had saved her life in the hands of the Boltons. Arya couldn’t imagine the things they did to her sister.

Unmindfully balling her hands into fists, Arya looked away from the rest of the people around her.

She wasn’t the only person who had suffered so much during the war. Sansa, Gendry, Jon, even Bran who went north of the Wall to become the Three-Eyed-Raven, had their own stories to tell.

They all decided it was time to rest when they heard the incessant yawning of the little Princess.

After bidding each other goodnight, the guards of the Queen and the Lord of Storm’s End went to their assigned positions, Marie and the other ladies went inside their tents, Hot Pie insisted on sleeping in his quarters because he had to wake up early the next day.

Arya, Gendry and Charlotte were to share a tent. With the little Princess in between her parents, she enjoyed the showers of kisses they gave her.

Their little moment was interrupted by Sansa’s voice outside the white canvas.

Gendry quickly rose up from his side when Arya stopped him, “You stay with Choti.”

The little girl’s tired eyes were looking up to her.

“I’ll be back,” she kissed her cheek and met her sister in the cold night; her tear-stained face gleamed in the moonlight.

Sansa scratched her nose, she hung her head low and mumbled, “I-I’m sorry. I just… I just needed some company…”

She stumbled backward when Arya leaped on her feet to embrace her.

“It’s alright. I’ll always be here,” Arya whispered.

Sansa nodded on her shoulder, “I know.”

The younger Stark guided her sister inside her tent.

It was the same size as the one she shared with Gendry and Charlotte but it was colder.

They both sat on the edge of the made-up featherbed as Arya ran her hand over Sansa’s back which only made her sob even more.

The Queen buried her face in her hands, “He changed. They tortured him and he-he wasn’t the Theon we were raised with,” she cried.

Arya moved closer to her sister and wrapped her in her arms; Sansa’s body shook with every sob that escaped her lips.

Just then they heard Gendry’s low voice calling for Charlotte. The flap of the tent was pulled open by little hands.

Gendry was about to carry Charlotte away when Sansa stopped him.

“It’s alright, Gendry.” She dried her tears with her cold hands.

Charlotte ran to her Aunt and climbed on her lap. She cupped her face with her tiny hands. She let her ocean blue eyes almost like the color of the woman's eyes she was holding, study the face in front of her.

“Aunt Sansa is sad?” she asked worriedly.

Sansa chuckled, though her tears never seemed to stop from falling. “I’m alright, my sweet,” she kissed Charlotte’s forehead. “I’m sure you’re tired. Now go with your mama and papa and get some sleep.”

The three adults thankfully sighed when Charlotte didn’t try to argue.

She bid her Aunt one more goodnight and walked to her parents’ awaiting hands to head back in their own quarters. But before they could step outside, Charlotte had stopped.

Tugging on her mother’s hand, she asked, “Can I sleep with Aunt Sansa?”

Arya’s wide eyes matched Gendry’s as they shared looks.

Arya turned to see Sansa who was just as surprised as they were.

When Arya couldn’t give an answer, Charlotte asked her father the same question.

“Well… I don’t… You’ll have to ask her yourself, I guess,” he stammered.

Charlotte was quick to pull her hands from Arya and Gendry’s hold to run to Sansa.

“Can I sleep with you, Aunt Sansa? I can hug you like mama does when I’m sad,” she peered over to her mother who was staring at her with so much adoration.

She didn’t want her Aunt Sansa to sleep alone knowing that she’s sad, the little request touched Sansa’s heart. A lone tear escaped her eye at the sweet and thoughtful gesture.

“You’re always welcome to sleep beside me. Sad or happy, you can always hud me in my sleep,” she patted the little girl’s head who giggled.

She ran back to her parents, asking for her goodnight kisses which Gendry thought was the hundredth that night.

“Please don’t kick your Aunt in the face,” Arya teased before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Mama!” Charlotte wailed and kissed her back.

Gendry and Sansa laughed at the playful exchange.

Arya exhaled audibly as they walked back to their tent.

“You raised our daughter beautifully,” Gendry commented as he pulled the mouth of their tent open for them to enter.

“Thank you-“ she didn’t continue her response when she saw the featherbed in front of her. Now that Charlotte was with Sansa that meant...

She heard Gendry shuffle behind her. When she spun around, she saw him take a step back.

“I can sleep in my chambers,” he said hurriedly.

The panicked look on his face faded as Arya snorted out a laugh.

She raised a mischievous brow and the corner of her lips twitched. “It’s not like we’ve never slept together before.”

Gendry’s brows snapped together at the remark.

Arya let out a soft chuckle. Not waiting for a reply, she walked over to the featherbed and resumed her position before Sansa came. “I’m tired, Gendry. I need my sleep,”

She closed her eyes and hummed quietly.

It didn’t take long before she felt the other side of the thick blankets to be pulled up. She heard Gendry clear his throat awkwardly before he laid down beside her.

“Good night, bull,” Arya shifted to lie on her side and face him.

“Good night, Arya,” he peered on her, her big steely eyes holding his crystal blue ones.

Not being able to hold himself, he leaned forward to press a kiss on her forehead.

Arya's sleep was disturbed by the constant movement behind her. Rubbing her eyes, she turned on her back to find Gendry struggling with the blanket.

“What’s wrong?” she croaked.

Gendry froze from blowing his hot breath on his hands.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“You kept on moving,” she stated. “Are you cold?”

Gendry turned scarlet and meekly nodded.

Arya chortled and pulled him close to her. “Come here.”

He hesitantly scurried to her side and watched her lift his arm up, binding it around her shoulders. She rested her head on his chest and stretched her arm until it reached Gendry’s other side. She stroked his muscled arm and snuggled closer.

Arya felt him stiffen underneath her and she laughed again.

“Sleep, you stupid bull. The sun won’t be out soon,” she spoke through his chest.

She heard him release the breath that he was holding and relaxed. His hand mirrored hers, brushing her arm to warm her in his hold as they both drifted back to sleep.

They were in that position when Sansa and Charlotte found them in the morning.

Arya grunted when she felt her chest being push harshly. She could hear giggles and sniggers. She opened an eye to see Sansa standing on the end of the feather; a hand over her hand as she hid her devilish grin.

She yelped when she felt a hit on her face only to find out that it was the back of Charlotte’s hand struggling to squeeze herself in between her parents, pulling the blank away so she could cuddle with them.

“I’ll go see if breakfast is ready,” Sansa’s lips danced, she bit it tightly to hold out another smirk.

“Thank you, Sansa,” Gendry’s hoarse and scratchy voice made Arya turn her head towards the man.

When Sansa left the tent, Charlotte held her cheek and kissed her nose, “Good morning, mama!” she happily greeted.

The smile on Arya’s face reached her eyes ash she watched her joyful child. She inched closer and pulled her daughter to her body. Instead, she found Gendry’s arm that was lying over Charlotte’s small frame. She settled on putting hers above his, enveloping the little girl between them.

“Good morning, my love.” Arya kissed her rosy cheeks.

She felt Gendry’s hand carefully moving and took her idle hand.

“Good morning,” he said in a voice soft with tenderness.

“Good morning, Gendry,” and stoke the back of his hand with her thumb.

They stayed that way for a while until Charlotte started to stir.

“Are you hungry, little one?” Gendry asked.

Charlotte shook her head easily. “Can we bring Letty and her baby brother to the big ice?” she asked hopefully.

“Who’s Letty?” Gendry wondered.

“Her mother helps cook food in the kitchens.”

“Ahh. The one who always gives you cheese all the time?” Arya guessed, pinching Charlotte’s cheek who just sniggered in response.

“Well, I think they can come with us. Of course, their parents will have to come too.” Arya stated. She gave Gendry’s hand a squeeze before pulling away.

“Now come on, you two. Let’s not keep the Queen waiting.”

Gendry and Charlotte groaned in unison. Arya’s eyes widen at the similarity and shook her head in amusement.

“You’re so much like your father,” she mumbled, helping Charlotte off the featherbed.

Gendry was putting on his boots when he said, “That’s because the seed is strong.”

Arya glared at him. They both watched Charlotte march away from them, still not happy that she had to leave the comforts of the bed. “Oh, I can’t argue with that.”

They both laughed as they followed their daughter inside the castle.

The little princess was impatient. Very impatient. Every day she would ask her parents about their trip to the big ice. They would always give her the same reply, “Soon, Choti,” or “In a few days, little one.”

She knew she could convince her parents to bring her back to that magical place, so she asked for the help of the one person who loved her just as much as her mama and papa, her Aunt Sansa.

Of course, Sansa would do anything for her niece, so she confronted Arya and Gendry one fine afternoon while they lazed in the kitchens with Hot Pie.

“Can I have a moment?” Sansa bounced her eyes from Arya to Gendry. The two watched the fidgeting little girl who stood beside the Queen.

Her sister brushed the crumbs of pie from her mouth, and got up. Gendry was already on his feet.

“You can stay here with Hot Pie, my sweet. We won’t be long.” Sansa kissed the crown of Charlotte’s head.

Her parents gave her kisses on the cheek before they followed Sansa to the Godswood.

The Queen didn’t waste time and asked her question the moment they were under the weeping tree.

“Why can’t we go to the frozen lake? Charlotte’s been restless. She’s eager to play with her sled again,” she said with firm persistence.

She waiting for Arya and Gendry to finish their silent communication and rolled her eyes at them.

“We’re waiting for a raven from Lord Tyrion. We want to be here the moment it arrives,” Arya reasoned.

“Why?” Sansa queried.

Gendry swallowed heavily before he answered. “We asked for an audience with the King.”

“Why?” Sansa asked again.

Arya shifted from one foot to another. She glanced at Gendry who looked nervous.

“We want to give Charlotte a name,” he spoke in a small voice.

Sansa furrowed her brows, confused and surprised.

“Wha-What do you mean? Do you want to give her the Baratheon name?” The Queen questioned harshly.

Arya took a step forward, closer to her sister to calm her down.

“No,” she corrected. “We want to name her Charlotte Stark-Baratheon. Don’t you think it’s better to give her not just my house’s name but also her father’s?”

“Can you even do that?”

“We don’t know yet,” Gendry shook his head. “We’ve never heard of it being done before. But we will try.”

Sansa nodded slowly in understanding. She grabbed Arya into an embrace and whispered, “I hope it goes well.”

Arya’s face lit up, grateful that she has Sansa’s support.

When she pulled away, Sansa beckoned for Gendry to stand closer to them.

Her eyes flickered with the thought that came to her mind.

“We will have a feast. And-,“ she held out a finger to stop Arya from interrupting, knowing she wouldn’t like the idea, “that feast will be for my niece… Because she is Charlotte Stark-Baratheon here in the North. I don’t care if Brand and his council don’t agree with it but here, where I am Queen, I believe that it is just right that we honor her wolf’s blood,” then she gazed at Gendry, “and her stag’s blood.”

She smiled along as Gendry’s features brightened up at her words.

Arya took her sister’s hand in hers, “Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa beamed at her, “Anything for my pack.”

Sansa was serious when she said they would have a feast, but Arya was relieved that there weren’t too many Lords and Ladies to join them because of the short notice. But Sansa did send out ravens to the Great Houses in the North, announcing the celebration of Charlotte’s naming.

Arya was stunned to see her beautiful daughter, dressed in Stark grey and Baratheon gold robes. She felt the tears in her eyes when Charlotte spun around, the silver crystals lining the edge of her dress sparkled with her every move.

“I didn’t sleep until dawn just so I could finish adding those snowflakes and waves on her cape,” Sansa whispered in her ear.

She whirled around to meet her sister’s proud eyes and thanked her. “You made all of this last night?”

Sansa shrugged. “Charlotte and I started making the gown after Gendry left for Storm’s End. I only added the details last night.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Arya spoke genuinely.

“You’re always welcome.” She patted her sister’s arm before approaching the little girl.

There weren’t many legitimizing ceremonies in Westeros. The person being officially named under a House would only ask for the parchment that proclaims his new name. No feasts were held, not unless if you are being legitimized to be part of a Great House, but that wasn't even common.

Arya hated the word 'legitimize' to be used for the occasion because she didn't think of Charlotte as a bastard. Gendry despised the word even more. Though he himself was a bastard and only named Gendry Baratheon after the late Dragon Queen announced his new title, he didn’t want his own children to be like him… Being called a fatherless child.

So when he wrote the letter with Arya addressed to the Small Council of the Six Kingdoms, they never used the word legitimize. They also asked to read the scrolls Sansa had written for the Northern Lords before they sent the ravens to deliver the message.

The buzz in the North was about Princess Charlotte’s naming day. Arya was happy to see that most of their guests were families of northerners who accompany them in Winterfell. Arya and Sansa made sure that Charlotte’s friends who grew up in Winter Town were present in the celebration. Gendry was in the forge before the sun was even in the sky, making his present for her daughter.

The ceremony was to begin at sundown.

Witnesses gathered in the Godswood with the Queen and the maester waiting by the Weirwood Tree.

Charlotte entered the significant setting with both her parents on her side.

They strode the thinly covered snow ground with bright, proud smiles on their faces.

The people cleared the path for them. ‘Awws’ and ‘Oohs’ tickled their ears as the commoners gaped over their beautiful family.

When they reached the space before the Queen, Arya mouthed a simple ‘thank you’ to her sister before stepping aside; Gendry right by her side.

Sansa gave them a warm smile, and then she raked her eyes through the crowd. Everyone was silent.

“Today, we make a change. Today, we honor the name of not just one Great House in Westeros but two.”

Arya felt Gendry lean on her shoulder.

“Today, we celebrate my niece, the daughter of my sister, Arya Stark, the she-wolf of Winterfell, and Gendry Baratheon, the Lord of Storm’s End.”

Their arms brushed against each other. Arya took his hand and laced them together as they listened to Sansa.

“My dear sweet Charlotte,” Sansa bent over to see her niece closer. The little girl’s crystal blue eyes twinkled with elation.

“You have the blood of a wolf, may you carry its sense of honor, justice, and loyalty. May your strong will and perseverance strengthen you as you fight for what is right and true. And you have the blood of a stag, may you possess its courage, determination and might. Let it fortify you as you practice the fury and fearsome blood of the Baratheons as you help those who are in need and protect those you love.”

The Queen held Arya and Gendry’s eyes, “May you guide your daughter to the right path, protect her, care for her and love her. Teach her the good deeds of a Stark and the strength of character of a Baratheon.”

She received humbled bows from Arya and Gendry.

Then the Queen addressed the people before her, “With the blessing of The Old Gods And The New, I, Sansa of House Stark, Queen of the North, first of her name, introduce you to Princess Charlotte Stark-Baratheon.”

She placed a hand on the little girl's shoulder and guided her to face the crowd.

The Godswood echoed with cheers and applause.

Some shed a few tears as they witnessed a momentous occasion.

Sansa took the flower crown that she prepared with Marie that moring from the maester’s hand and carefully set it down on Charlotte's head.

The little Princess reached up to tap the flowers on her head as she giggled in her parents' arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. But here I am, alive and kicking.  
I'm so excited for the next chapters, can you guess why? ;)
> 
> Thank you to those who commented and left kudos. Your love and support are the best! I'll reply to your comments soon.
> 
> Shameless plug: I wrote a one-shot inspired by my favorite place on Earth, entitled Work and Pleasure. You can check it out if you want.
> 
> Again, thank you my lovies! <3


	17. Chapter 17

_ **Winterfell** _

The morning after the memorable celebration, the little Princess woke up to very special gifts from her father, a collection of hilts complete with different pommels.

Arya almost hit Gendry with her own sword when she saw them lain on the table near the hearth in Charlotte’s bedroom.

“She’s five, Gendry! Five!” Arya did her best not to wake the little girl who was still deep in her slumber.

Gendry shrugged her objection, “Tell me, how old were you when you wanted to learn how to hold a sword?”

“Eight!” Arya hissed.

“Well, the earlier the better,” Gendry patted her shoulder which annoyed her even more.

He was about to leave the chambers when Arya stomped behind him, standing between him and the door.

“You already gave her a sword for her name-day. Isn’t that enough?”

Gendry rolled his eyes which earned him a whack on the chest.

“They’re just hilts, Arya. No blade.”

“Then you better promise me you won’t attach blades on those hilts soon or your neck will meet one of mine!” Arya turned on her heels, leaving the chuckling Gendry behind.

And as everyone expected, the first question Charlotte asked when she saw her father’s gifts was, “Where’s the pointy end?”

If glares could kill, Gendry would have been dead.

Sansa was just as disapproving as Arya. He raked his hand over the back of his head as he promised the Starks he’ll never forge a blade for the hilts he made, yet.

With Charlotte’s question, he told the little girl she’d have to earn it.

“How?” Charlotte tilted her head to the side as she watched her father wrap the gifts in a cloth and put them back inside the box.

He hid it in her closet, beneath all her dresses and walked back to his impatient daughter.

“You have to promise me and mama that you will be a good little Princess, food is no problem with you,” he ruffled her hair. “Learning your letters, going to bed early, listening to what the big people have to say and helping those who are in need.”

“But I do help in the kitchen all the time,” Charlotte whined.

“Yeah, you help eat all the cheese,” Arya commented with a laugh.

Charlotte puckered her lower lip at her mother who laughed even harder at the little girl’s sullen face.

Gendry chuckled. “You got that from your mother,” he pointed at Charlotte’s unpleased expression.

“Hey! You were the grumpy one when we were still young.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Now, now. Enough with the arguing,” Sansa broke them off. “Just follow what your father said, my sweet. And you better continue on learning how to use your Little Needle before you can learn how to use another one,” she said sternly.

On that same day, they received a raven from King’s Landing, accepting their request for an audience with the King.

_King Bran would be more than pleased to host Princess Arya, Lord Gendry and Princess Charlotte in the Red Keep. The King of the Six Kingdoms would be delighted if the Queen In the North and Jon Snow could accompany them in their journey South._

“He wants you to come with us?” Arya rolled the scroll again after reading the words out loud.

“And Jon,” Sansa added.

Arya, Gendry and Sansa were padding the Queen’s library when Arya suggested they could have the trip to the frozen lake the next day so they could visit Castle Black soon.

“Will Jon be there?” Gendry asked.

Sansa nodded.

“Do you think he’ll come with us?” Gendry asked again.

Sansa shook her head. “I don’t know. He was given pardon by Bran but he still declined.”

Arya balled her fists tightly. “Why would he do that?” she asked her sister who took her seat behind the big wooden desk.

Sansa cradled her head with her hands and drew in a deep breath.

“He felt guilty.”

“For killing the Mad Queen?” Arya roared. She only relaxed when she felt Gendry’s hand on her shoulder.

“He did it for us,” said Sansa.

“And for the rest of Westeros,” Arya added, her voice booming with infuriation again.

“He had to kill the woman he loved,” Sansa countered just as lurid.

“His aunt!”

Gendry’s sharp intake of breath made the two Starks look at him in alarm.

He stood stiffly in place, his eyes bouncing from Arya to Sansa in perplexity.

“Fuck. This was not the way I wanted to tell you,” Arya mumbled under her breath but loud enough for the other two people in the room to hear.

Sansa was on her feet, the chair dragging heavily on the floor at the action.

“You plan on telling him? Arya how could-“

“Of course I do!” her sister bellowed.

“It’s supposed to be a family secret,” the Queen spoke through gritted teeth.

Arya’s scoff made Gendry take a step back. The she-wolf was ready to fight the red-wolf.

“Gendry _is_ family. And let me remind you,” when Arya’s face did not reflect her anger but the unreadable expression of a faceless man, Sansa swallowed visibly.

“It was you who told Tyrion Lannister about Jon’s real parents,” Arya seethed. "It was you who broke the promise first."

Sansa lowered her head.

When no one said a word, Arya turned around grabbing Gendry with her.

“Frozen lake tomorrow, Castle Black the day after. I will convince Jon to come with us,” she said defiantly.

** _Frozen Lake, Wolfswood_ **

They did go to the frozen lake the next day and Gendry never asked about Jon’s true relationship with Daenerys.

Arya and Sansa never spoke a single word to each other focusing their attention on Charlotte. The little girl was more than happy to be back in the big ice, she had her friends with her.

She watched as her playmates took turns in riding her sled, proudly announcing to everyone that it was a present from her Uncle Jon and Tormund.

Gendry and Arya stood in the clearing, eyes never leaving their daughter.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Princess Arya, Lord Gendry,” it was Elira, Letty’s mother, holding the baby boy in her arms.

Arya smiled, “Please, call me Arya.”

Elira ducked her head shyly, bouncing the baby she was carrying.

“I just want to thank you for inviting us today. Letty’s been excited to come, she wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

Gendry and Arya glanced at each other with knowing smiles.

“I think our daughter is to blame for that,” Gendry said, bumping his shoulder to Arya.

“Still, it’s nice to go on trips like this even for just a day,” just then the baby in her arms started to stir and coo.

“Shhhh,” Elira soothed.

“How old is he?” Gendry asked making Arya look at him curiously.

Elira grinned to the Lord of Storm’s End, “He will be having his second name-day in three moon’s turn.”

She glanced up at Gendry before walking closer to him, “Would you like to hold him, m’lord?”

The panic in Gendry’s eyes made Arya giggle. He shifted from one foot to another, studying his shoes before he cleared his throat. “I… I couldn’t… It’s al-alright.”

Arya sniggered even more. “Go on. It won’t bite,” she encouraged.

Gendry’s nervousness showed through his trembling hands when he accepted the baby.

“He’s not a newborn so it’s alright,” Arya said, helping him hold the child better, her own hands guiding his arms.

The sleepy baby looked tiny in Gendry’s muscled arms. He cradled the boy, still with Arya’s assistance.

Then the squealing little Princess rushed to their side making the child they were holding squirm.

Charlotte gasped, her hands slapped on her mouth, “Baby Lennard.” Charlotte stood on her toes to take a peek on the boy.

“His name is Lennard?” Gendry asked his eyes on the baby.

“Yes,” answered Elira, “Named after my father who served your father, Princess Arya.”

Arya was about to remind her not to call her Princess but Elira corrected herself first, “Arya.”

“He went to King’s Landing with you, when the late King Robert Baratheon asked your father to be his Hand.”

Gendry held his breath, they all knew Cersei made sure none of Ned’s men escaped their wrath.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice.

“No need for apologies, m’lord,” said Elira, smiling. “None of it was your fault, or your father’s.”

The thick air surrounding them was replaced by the lively request of the little Princess.

“Can I hold him too, papa?”

Arya, Gendry, and Elira laughed.

“You can’t carry him like papa's doing, but you can maybe touch him," said Arya.

She and Gendry crouched down carefully so Charlotte could hold Lennard’s hand.

The Queen approached them silently, standing behind Elira who curtsied at her presence.

“I will have a baby brother too,” Charlotte beamed to Elira and Sansa who was hovering over them.

The announcement of the little girl almost made Arya collapse on the cold ground and she felt Gendry froze beside her.

“What?” Sansa asked in surprise.

“We’re having a little prince soon?” Elira smiled at Arya in excitement.

“Choti,” Arya managed to whisper. “Come here,” she prodded her daughter to move to her side.

Holding the rosy cheeks with her hands, she could feel Gendry’s heavy breaths on the side of her neck. 

Arya swallowed hard before asking carefully, “Did you… Did you see a baby brother in your dreams, my love?”

Charlotte’s confident nod made Arya’s stomach go in twists, she felt lightheaded.

She turned around to see Gendry, still holding Lennard. He was just as stupefied as she was.

He stood up to give Lennard back to his mother and helped Arya back up.

“Let’s get back to the castle, shall we?” Arya asked.

That night, Arya stayed awake beside her daughter. She knew Gendry was too, as he rustled on Charlotte's other side.

_ **Castle Black** _

Charlotte insisted on riding with her father in his horse, but after hours of traveling further north, the little Princess complained that her legs were aching, so she spent the rest of the journey with her Aunt Sansa in the carriage.

The Queen in the North’s soldiers and The Lord of Storm’s End’s men was a big crowd. With supplies and food with them, their planned arrival so Castle Black was delayed.

Jon and Tormund were waiting by the gates of the still wrecked castle and the smile on Jon’s face when he saw his niece was priceless.

He stumbled back when Charlotte rushed to him but what made him fall on the ground were Tormund and Ghost, joining the reunion.

“You’ve grown already?” Jon smoothen the now messy locks of the little girl.

“You’re going to be taller than your Uncle right here,” Tormund grunted with a laugh, pointing to Jon who swatted his finger.

Jon then took turns in welcoming his sisters, giving them warm hugs and Gendry too.

The young Lord was taken aback with the gesture but was glad by the warmth of Jon’s greeting.

Then Tormund came to pat him on the back, “Good to see you, lad.”

“You too,” Gendry smiled at the big man.

Slowly, memories came rushing to his mind. More recollections when he was on his journey beyond the wall, Eastwatch, his first time in Winterfell, the battle with the Night King, the dragon pit, his works as the new Lord Paramount in the Stormlands, to the day he heard that Arya was back in Westeros.

“Are you alright?” Arya’s soft voice made him close his eyes to slow down the rush of memories.

He saw the look on her eyes when she first saw him years after they were parted, the look on Charlotte’s face as she sat in the forge while the rest of Winterfell was looking for her, the way his own daughter shied away from him after she was told he was her father.

“Gendry,” Arya spoke again. “What’s wrong?” She sounded worried and took his face in her hands. “Say something you stupid bull.”

Gendry shook her head lightly. He grabbed Arya’s hands from his face and held them tightly.

“I just remembered…”

Arya widened her eyes, “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Gendry replied.

“Then why don’t you look happy?”

“I… I’m just… I am… I just feel tired is all,” Arya knew it was his insecurities of losing his memories that was creeping on his mind. She guided him inside the castle where the rest of the party had gathered for supper.

Arya was not surprised to see how well Charlotte got along with the freefolk. There were children her age that she happily played with while the adults shared stories.

“How’s the Stormlands, m’lord?” Tormund teased.

Gendry slid his empty cup to hit Tormund from the other side of the table.

“He just saved his men from pirates who kept them hostage in exchange for land,” Sansa reported and Jon and Tormund roared in celebration.

“That’s our boy!” Tormund stood up and poured more wine on Gendry’s cup.

With the amount of wine they have consumed, time had been forgotten.

When Gendry couldn’t almost feel his cheeks, he told Arya that he would be sleeping in the chambers that Jon had prepared for him instead of sleeping with her and Charlotte.

“Why?” Arya asked.

Gendry took interest in his boots and scratch the back of his neck. He didn’t look Arya in the eyes when he answered, “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

Then she understood.

“Gendry,” she lifted his head, holding his chin with a hand, “You’re not even that drunk. I also had a few.”

But Gendry shook his head.

“You’re not him,” Arya said softly. “Let’s go fetch our daughter. You’re sleeping with us.”

Gendry didn’t want to argue. So he did.

Arya could feel his tensed body from the other side of the featherbed. It wasn’t that big for three people so they had to drag another one.

She rolled on her side and stretched her hand over her daughter’s sleeping figure to reach for Gendry.

“Sleep. I know you’re tired,” she said, lifting her head to see his eyes.

Gendy nodded. “Good night, Arya.”

“Good night, bull.”

The sun hadn’t come up when Gendry padded the space beside him, only to find it cold.

He rubbed his eyes to clearly see the empty featherbed, with no Charlotte and no Arya.

Putting more layers of coats and his boots, he found them in the kitchens, helping the freefolk prepare for their breakfast and supplies.

“Papa!” Charlotte ran to his arms with potatoes in both hands.

“Good morning, little one.” He kissed the top of her head before smile over to Arya who seemed to be helping with the bread.

“Jon promised her we’re going over the Wall today,” Arya explained, gesturing to the pile of food around them.

He eyed the bounty of food and knitted his brows together. “Are we staying there long?” he asked.

“We’ll be camping for the night,” she answered, taking the potatoes from Charlotte to peel them.

They broke their fast with so much fuzz and noise. Northerners and Stormlanders chattered in excitement to march beyond the Wall. Charlotte was no exception.

** _Beyond the Wall_ **

She walked side by side with her Uncle Jon; sometimes she’d ride on Ghost’s back… or Tormund’s.

They've been marching for quite some time when Sansa carefully walked beside her sister and Gendry.

Arya ignored her. Gendry acknowledged her presence.

The Queen coughed lightly.

And when she still did not receive any response from her sister, she had her eyes on her hands, playing with her nails. “I never apologized,” Sansa said in a small voice.

They were still walking over the thick layer of snow; Gendry glanced over to the Queen than to Arya.

He laced his hand with Arya’s and tugging her arm lightly.

“You’re family, Gendry. I just thought-“

“It’s alright. Arya didn’t say anything after that and I didn’t want to intrude.” Gendry replied, cutting her off.

Sansa shook her head. “I made a mistake, telling Tyrion. Maybe… But he convinced Jon to do something with Daenerys so there’s a part of me that didn’t regret that.”

“But it got him sent over the Wall!” Arya glowered, stopping her tracks. “I could’ve killed her myself.”

“Arya!” Gendry hissed.

“I could have! I could have killed her without having anyone know. That’s what I was trained to do.”

“Enough!” Gendry yelled, squeezing her hand tightly.

Just then, the crunch of the snow made everyone turn their heads on the man walking towards them.

“What is happening here?” Jon asked as soon as he was near them.

Arya turned around, pulling Gendry with her. But Gendry was stronger, she only swiveled a few inches.

“Arya still blames me for telling Tyrion about-“

“I’m not blaming you!” Arya bellowed.

“Then what is this?” Sansa yelled gesturing between the two of them.

Arya huffed harshly. “You didn’t want me to tell Gendry.”

“Because it was about Jon. Don’t you think it would have been better, respectful if we asked if it was alright for you to be telling Gendry about his parents?” Sansa argued, lowering her voice.

But Jon just shrugged. “I don’t mind you telling Gendry. He’s basically Pack.”

“See?” Arya grinned triumphantly.

“Of course,” Jon clapped Gendry in the back, “He’s the father of my niece and nephew, of course, he’s Pack.”

“WHAT?!” Arya and Gendry cried in unison.

Sansa's mouth was wide open along with her eyes.

“Charlotte just told me-... Aren’t you with a child?” Jon looked confused.

Arya clasped her own belly, “No! That girl better stop telling people that I’m pregnant,” Arya stomped away from them, taking Charlotte from Tormund’s hold.

“I-I didn’t… Charlotte said she was about to have a baby brother,” Jon defended himself.

Sansa chuckled lightly, watching Gendry who shook his head.

“Charlotte had a dream that she had a baby brother. Her dreams would usually come true like a foreshadowing... So I believe it won’t be long before we have a new member in the Pack,” Sansa let her eyes linger on Gendry’s stunned face before walking away.

“What does she mean by that?” Gendry asked still dumbfounded.

“I do not know,” Jon huffed, pulling Gendry by the shoulder and told him about his real parents.

Arya never took Charlotte away from her side until they built their camp atop of a mountain.

The climb was very difficult but they still made it.

As the adults perched up tents, pulled out logs and built fire, Charlotte buried herself deeper in Ghost’s thick fur.

“Are you alright, little one?” Gendry asked worriedly. Charlotte was so pale and her lips trembled as she nodded to her father.

Gendry was not convinced.

He took off one of his gloves and pressed his palm on his daughter’s forehead.

“Arya!” Gendry called, scooting closer to Charlotte.

Arya dropped the logs in her arms and rushed to them.

“Is something wrong?”

“Charlotte’s burning,” Gendry stroke the little girl’s cheek.

Arya quickly took her own gloves to feel her daughter. It wasn’t as hot as when she was sick but she was still warmer than she’s supposed to be.

“Let’s get her inside the tent,” she instructed. “Ghost.” She called for the wolf that immediately stood up.

They put layers and layers of think blankets over the little girl who doesn’t seem bothered. Ghost nuzzled beside her, giving more warmth.

“How do you feel, Choti?” Arya asked, stroking her daughter’s hair.

“I want to go and help with the fire,” the little girl whined. Her parents chuckled.

“When you feel better,” said Gendry.

“I am better,” she argued.

“I’ll go get some washcloth and water; you can stay here with her.” Then Arya left the tent.

When she came back inside, she found Charlotte being cradled by her father. The thick blankets still wrapping her in warmth and Ghost sat on her front.

Arya immediately got to work, like what she used to do when Charlotte got sick while Gendry was gone. The damp cloth was placed on Charlotte’s forehead with the help of her father.

Arya sat on the made-up featherbed, raking her fingers through Ghost’s thick fur.

They stayed there for a while, silently praying for Charlotte’s fever to heal.

Later on, Jon came with Sansa in tow.

“We wondered where you’ve been,” Sansa said, watching her niece in Gendry’s arms.

“Just a little fever, I’m hoping it will be gone soon,” said Arya.

“Will she be able to come out? Just for a little while. The sun’s about to set and I want her to see it.”

Hearing her Uncle Jon’s words, the little girl pushed the blankets away, even Ghost. She jumped out of her father’s hold and quickly ran to her Uncle.

“Careful now,” Arya warned.

“She doesn’t look sick,” whispered Sansa.

They walked outside where there was a big fire in the middle where most of the men with them gathered. Small ones were built for cooking their food and warming water.

Gendry took the blankets with him and wrapped them around Charlotte who sat next to her Uncle, her back resting on Ghost.

They lined up on the highest peak of the mountain, watching the sun descend from the horizon. The sky was like a canvas, the sun painted in bright orange as strokes of red weaved around it. Sprinkles of pink, blue and purple covered most of the sky and Charlotte couldn’t help but gasp in the view before her.

Arya pulled her daughter closer to her as she leaned her head on Gendry’s shoulder. On Charlotte’s other side, Sansa and Jon talked about how beautiful the colors were. Arya couldn’t be more thankful.

They slept like a big bundle that night, huddled up inside the canvas to keep each other warm.

The sets of footsteps marching on the crisp snow woke Arya up. She shifted on her side to see Charlotte deep in her dreams and found Gendry stirring awake as she rose up.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him. Arya took a peek on the little opening by the mouth of the tent and found two figures walking around.

She saw Gendry also getting up, but she stopped him.

“Stay with Charlotte. I’ll be back,” she whispered. Gendry retreated back on the featherbed, holding Charlotte close to him. Arya bent over to place a chaste kiss on her daughter’s forehead. She locked eyes with Gendry who looked up to her with concern and his blue eyes gleamed in the night. She leaned close to him to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“Go back to sleep,” she said again before leaving their quarters.

She found Sansa and Jon standing by the fire. Both not saying a word; just staring on the hot flames before them.

“Why aren’t you two asleep?”

They turned around in harmony, both surprised to hear her voice.

“We couldn’t sleep,” answered Jon.

Arya nodded, she walked closer to them; the heat of the fire warming her up

“Have you told him?” Arya suddenly asked.

“No.”

Jon furrowed his brows, “Told me what?”

Sansa and Arya exchanged glances before the younger Stark pulled her arms together for more warmth.

“We had a naming ceremony for Charlotte,” said Arya.

“So I’ve heard,” Jon simply answered, smiling to his younger sister.

“From whom?” Sansa wondered.

Jon chuckled, wrapping an arm around Arya’s shoulders, “Your smart daughter. She proudly told me her name now is Charlotte Stark-Baratheon. I think she told Tormund too.”

Arya smiled at the thought of her daughter. Though that smile was quickly washed away as she pulled the scroll she had been keeping in her breeches.

She unrolled the letter carefully before handing it to her brother, “We want Bran to name her Stark-Baratheon too.”

Jon didn’t say a word even after he read the script and giving it back to Arya.

He cleared his throat, “So you’re going to King’s Landing?”

“_We’re_ going to King’s Landing,” Arya corrected.

“You know I can’t,” Jon strode away from them, aiming for his tent.

Sansa and Arya quickly followed to stop him.

“But why?” Arya gripped his arm. “That was years ago. Everyone had forgotten. For some, you’re even a hero.”

“I’m not a hero,” he grumbled.

“Damn it Jon!” it was Sansa. She glared at him and Jon couldn’t take the piercing blue eyes and turned away. “Listen. You had no choice. It’s as much as Tyrion’s fault as yours. He told you to do it.”

“I had a choice.”

“No, you didn’t!” Sansa countered back. “We could have all been dead. It was one life or the rest of ours. Not just us Starks but even the lives of the innocent.”

The white-wolf didn’t look at them. His back faced his sisters as he ran his hand on his face.

“I was there Jon,” Arya said softly. “I was there, and I saw how she burned thousands of lives. We’ve been through so much like her. We’ve lost so much _just like her_, our family, our home, and our people but did we burn a city?”

Arya heard Sansa let out a sob. She turned her head to see her sister, holding her cries with both her hands.

“I don’t know how I did it… I survived… But what if I didn’t?” Arya continued.

She walked in front of her brother.

“Look at me Jon,” and he did, his eyes red from holding back the tears. “I could have lost the babe I was carrying while I was there. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do to her if I-,“ she took a sharp breath. She couldn’t even finish her sentence without having her heart shattering for a moment. “I could have lost Charlotte because of what she did. But I didn’t. I do not forgive her but I’m willing to forget about the past and not dwell on it because my life now is _this_. You, me, Sansa, Charlotte, Gendry, even Bran despite that he's the Three-Eyed Raven now and doesn't act like he was our brother. I have Ser Davos, Brienne, and even Tormund. We have a new life now,” she cupped Jon’s face and wiped the tears on his cheeks with her thumbs and rested her forehead against his. “Come with us to King’s Landing. Stay in Winterfell. You can always come back to the freefolk whenever you want.”

Jon took her hands from his face and kissed them.

Sansa strode towards them, enveloping Jon in an embrace.

“Please come with us,” she pleaded. “Come home.”

Those two words meant a lot. Not just for Sansa who lived alone in their childhood home for years without her family and suffered so much under the roof of that same home.

But those words meant millions to Jon and Arya too.

When Sansa pulled herself away from him, he locked his gaze with hers, “I will.”

Then he looked over to Arya’s tear-filled eyes, “I’ll come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update? An update?!?!?!  
Can you tell I'm very inspired at the moment?
> 
> Now I wanna hear(read) what you have to say about this chapter cause a lot happened here.
> 
> Again, thank you for the kudos and comments. I'm glad many of you liked the naming ceremony and camping scene from the last chapter.  
If you wanna be updated with my progress with Home In Winterfell and my other shenanigans, who can find me on tumblr: coffeexwhiskey  
Feel free to leave questions/asks/messages/suggestions and stuff... especially now that we're about to close this story.  
I'll always be grateful for your support. Lavyah! <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi there! Yep, I'm still here. Sorry for the long wait. Here's a happy chapter for you. I hope you like it.

Charlotte being happy was an understatement, she was ecstatic**. **Forcing her parents to let her ride on Ghost’s back wasn’t easy but thanks to Uncle Jon, Arya and Gendry were left with the assurance from the man that Ghost won’t do anything to hurt the little Princess.

She would sit by her Uncle Jon as they eat around the fire for supper, she’d be with her Aunt inside the carriage when her legs start to hurt, and she’d be wrapped around her parents’ loving embrace when she sleeps at night.

She was more than blissful.

When the party arrived in the grounds of Winterfell, many were delighted to see Jon Snow home again. He was greeted with warm smiles and handshakes and Sansa watched with tears in her eyes.

“He’s finally home,” Arya whispered.

“If only Bran could be with us too,” Sansa replied, brushing the single tear that fell on her face.

Arya took her sister's hand, “We’ll be seeing him soon.”

They walked inside the castle hand in hand, discussing if Jon would like to celebrate his return with a feast.

“Just bring out the best wine and he’ll be good,” Arya suggested.

And she was right.

It was like another supper in Winterfell, with the northerners who were with them in the castle except there was Dornish wine and Jon was sitting beside Sansa.

Charlotte ran back and forth in the high table, the happy girl couldn’t contain her excitement that finally, she can play with Ghost everyday like they used to.

After bidding each other for a good night’s rest, Charlotte asked for her parents to sleep in her chambers again, something Arya and Gendry weren’t surprised to hear.

“Choti, we’re home now. You need to sleep in your chambers while I sleep in mine and papa stays in his,” Arya helped the little girl put on her nightclothes as Gendry stood by the hearth.

“But I want mama and papa with me!” Charlotte insisted.

Heaving a tired sigh, Gendry walked to the little girl who was about to burst into tears.

“I thought you’re a big girl,” he said softly. He carried her in his lap as he sat beside Arya on the featherbed.

Charlotte furrowed her brows as if her father was questioning her ability as a ‘big girl’, “I am.”

Arya chuckled.

“Well then, if you’re a big girl then you can sleep in your own featherbed. Besides, we’ve had a long journey, my love.” Arya caressed the girl’s cheek sweetly, “It’ll be difficult for us to sleep properly if we try to sleep comfortably in your bed,” she eyed the featherbed that they were sitting on.

Thanking all the Gods, Gendry smiled with relief when Charlotte solemnly nodded.

After bidding their daughter goodnight and leaving her kisses, Arya and Gendry carefully stepped into the quiet corridor.

“May I escort you to your chambers?” Gendry offered.

Arya hid her scarlet cheeks by bobbing her head and led the way.

It wasn’t a long walk, but the short moment was spent in silence.

When Arya pushed her door open, Gendry stood stiffly behind her.

He rocked from one foot to another waiting for her to say something first, but Arya only looked behind her shoulder as she opened the door wider.

Accepting the invitation, Gendry cautiously followed her inside.

The hearth that the maids had prepared roared in one corner, yet the chilling winds of the North still made Gendry shiver.

He watched as Arya sat on a chair, removing her boots.

“Do you think Charlotte will sleep through the night?” she asked, taking her boots away.

Gendry tilted his head slightly, “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Well, she’s been sleeping with us for a while now,” Arya explained.

Gendry swallowed heavily as she untied her jerkin. It was like traveling back to the past and Gendry knew what was behind those pieces of clothes. The memory made him feel hot.

“Gendry?” Arya called out.

He snapped his eyes back to her face; he had been unconsciously staring at her unlacing fingers the whole time.

“I-I’m sure she-she’ll sleep just fine,” he stuttered.

Arya replied with a nod turned her back on him as she took her nightclothes out.

“I should go now,” Gendry said. “Good night, Arya.”

She looked behind her, a small smile playing on her lips. “Good night, Gendry.”

He was about to step out of the room when Arya called again.

“Wait,” she rushed to him and Gendry almost stumbled back when Arya left a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear lightly.

She turned on her heels and walked back to her bed where she left her nightclothes. As she was striding away from him, she took off her tunic giving Gendry a perfect view of her naked back.

His heart pounded as he quickly left the chambers.

“See you in the morning,” he mumbled as he closed the door.

The day after the Starks arrived back in Winterfell, preparations for their long travel South immediately started.

"Everyone's having supper and Choti's looking for you," Gendry gave the steel one more pound before looking up to see Arya standing by the entrance of the forge.

He gave her a small smile and took the blade off the anvil to study his handy work.

"I'll be inside in a moment," he said.

Gendry could hear Arya's steps getting closer to him. She had her hands on her back and strode towards him confidently.

"I haven't seen you around lately," she shrugged. "Well, in the mornings you eat with us and you help me with Choti at night but most of the day..." her words faded as she watched Gendry huff a heavy sigh.

He placed the heels of his hands on the anvil with his head hung low.

"What's wrong?" Arya asked.

He shook his head.

"Gendry," she spoke the word softy. The profound concern on her voice gave him goosebumps.

He dug his foot on the ground still avoiding Arya's eyes.

She took a careful step closer to him and he could feel she's standing in front of him already.

"What is it?" she asked again.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, stupid bull."

That made him look up.

She looked impatient yet worried and he wanted to tell her it was nothing she should be worried about, he was just being stupid.

"Talk to me, Gendry," Arya was pleading now and Gendry could never keep anything from her.

Drawing in a deep breath, he stood up and wiped his dirty hands on a rag from the working bench beside him.

"I've never been back to King's Landing... Not since what happened in the dragon pit."

"That's a long time ago," Arya furrowed her eyebrows.

He nodded. "Davos said a lot has changed. I don't think... I don't know really... I grew up there, I learned how to forge armor and blades in the street of steel, I learned how to fight in those ratty alleys..." he threw the rag back on the bench. "I don't know if I should be happy that it's better now or if I should feel sorry for the people-" he couldn't finish his sentence. He rubbed a hand on his face and turned away from Arya.

"King's Landing is still my home and yet... After being sold to the Night's Watch, after Harenhall and Stanis-"

"Uncle Stanis," Arya interrupted.

"What?" Gendry faced her, confused.

"He was your uncle," she clarified.

"He never was an uncle to me. He wanted me dead," Gendrya spat bitterly.

Arya crossed her arms on her chest, "Yet he's a Baratheon. A name you share with him, and so is our daughter."

The slow creeping smile on Gendry's face made her drop her arms and stared at him.

"What?" she barked.

Gendry locked his eyes with hers and walked around the anvil between them to wrap his arms carefully over her small frame.

"I love it when you say 'our daughter'," he whispered, placing a small kiss on the top of her head.

Arya's fist landed on his chest which only made him laugh.

"Well, who's child is she?"

Gendry's smile grew wider and brighter, "Yours," he kissed her forehead, "Mine," then the tip of her nose, "Ours," and Gendry was taken aback when Arya met his lips halfway.

For almost six years, Gendry thought he had forgotten how Arya's lips would taste like. But he was wrong, her soft sweet kisses were still the same, the dance their mouths made was still in sync, and when Arya laced her hands on his hair and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss, he was certain that their love was still as passionate and alive as it was many years ago...

They walked hand in hand as they entered the dining hall. Charlotte jumped off her seat and ran to her parents.

Jon and Sansa’s delighted smiles at the sight of the small exchange reflected the faces of the others in the room.

“Where were you, Gendy?” the Queen asked the moment he was seated.

“I was at the forge. Making the most of the time left before we head south,” he answered, as he watched Arya scoop some soup for him and herself.

Dinner went in peace as always. Though some were giddy at the thought of marching south again after many years.

Those who were there during the war were apprehensive and those who have joined the Northern banner after were eager to step foot in the capital of the six-kingdoms.

It was palpable how most of those seated at the table felt for the forthcoming journey; elation and perturbation.

A few days before the arranged trip, Gendry can be found walking around the castle, in the practice yard and even the kitchens.

“Have you seen Arya and Charlotte?” Gendry asked Hot Pie who was busy rolling dough.

He only received a shrug, obviously, the baker didn’t want to be disturbed.

Gendry exhaled exasperatedly and stepped out of the kitchen when Elira stopped him.

“I saw them heading for the Godswood earlier, m’lord. But that was after they had their midday meal I’m not certain they’re still there though.”

Gendry smiled at the woman and nodded, “Thank you Elira. I will go and see if they’re still there.”

The sun was starting to descent signaling that the day was about to end and people were preparing for supper.

The snow and fallen leaves crunched beneath his feet as he rushed to the Godswood.

And Elira was right, he found Arya sitting under the old tree with her back resting on its giant roots and their daughter sleeping soundly on her lap.

Arya smiled at the sight of him and he returned the sweet gesture.

Leaving a kiss on her head, Gendry sat beside her and placed an arm around her body.

“I’ve been looking for the two of you.”

Arya giggled, “Choti wanted to play here. You know what she did?”

Gendry shook his head.

“She took one of the pommels you gave her and tried to shove a stick in it.”

Gendry muffled his laugh with the back of his hand to not wake the sleeping Princess.

“She wanted to play all afternoon and look at her now.”

“My tired little one,” Gendry softly cooed, brushing the dark locks away from his daughter’s peaceful face.

They sat in silence except for Arya humming. Gendry watched her as she soothed Charlotte.

“What?” Arya asked curiously when she couldn’t take Gendry’s eyes on her for much longer.

Grinning, Gendry pressed his lips on her hair, “I didn’t know you sing.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me My Lord,” Arya japed.

“Well, we have the rest of our lives to learn more things about each other, right?”

His reply made Arya turn her body to face him completely, making the little girl on her lap stir.

She narrowed her eyes at him and she challenged her back with his blue ones.

“Arya-”

“Gendry…”

“I have said it before and will say it again and again if I have to,” he took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze.

He looked confident and determined with what he was about to say.

“You and Charlotte are all I need. I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I live.”

His hopeful eyes became worried when Arya pulled her hand away. His heart pounded even more with his fear.

Arya reached out her hand to his face, pulling him closer to her to leave a soft kiss on his mouth, just like what she did the night he asked her to be his wife.

Gendry closed his eyes a little longer as he savored the sweet moment.

“Are you asking me to wed you?” Arya asked after they ended the kiss, her face unreadable. 

“I want to but-”

“Ask me, Gendry.”

The command made him took in a sharp breath. Arya ran her thumb on his cheek with the hand that was still holding his face.

“Ask me,” she repeated.

Swallowing hard, “We don’t need to wed Arya. But I-”

“Be my husband,” a smirk grew on her face at Gendry’s dazed reaction. “I have made many mistakes before, but having Charlotte with you is not one of them but the night at the feast was. Leaving you was. Coming back and keeping our daughter away from was. I will not make the same mistakes again.”

Arya took a trembling breath as her eyes mirrored Gendry’s; passion, hope, trust, and love were exchanged through them.

“I was meaning to ask you to exchange vows with me, it would have been enough. But now that you’ve asked,” Gendry leaned in with a rush that took Arya off guard. “Yes, I would like to be your husband. But promise me one thing.”

Arya furrowed her brows, “What is it?”

“Take me wherever you go if you plan on going on an adventure again. Me and Charlotte.”

“But… But Storm’s End?”

A playful smile grew on his face, “Haven’t I just told you? You and the little one are all I need. Another reason why I wanted to speak with the King.”

Arya’s eyes were wide, stunned. “You’re giving up the Stormlands?”

“I am.”

“To whom?”

“Who do you think?”

Gendry was not surprised when the answer came out of her in a second.

“Davos.”

He smiled proudly at how well Arya knew him and him her, but they still had many things they needed to learn about each other.

He kissed her temple lovingly.

They have the rest of their lives for that.

They sat in the Godswood for a little longer. They only decided it was time to get inside the castle when Gendry’s stomach grumbled and Charlotte started to scoot closer to her mother for warmth.

As Gendry shifted Charlotte in his arms, the little girl awoke with a sleepy smile to her parents.

“I want to tell Sansa and Jon before supper,” Arya announced.

“I would like that.”

They found Jon in the practice yard.

Arya shook her head when Charlotte screamed for him and jumped out of her father’s hold to run to her Uncle Jon.

“Where were you, pup?” Jon held her on her sides and twirled her around. The little girl giggled in joy.

“We were in the Godswood whole afternoon,” Arya answered. “Can we speak with you and Sansa before we have supper?”

Jon dropped Charlotte on her feet slowly. His worried expression made Arya roll her eyes, “It’s nothing bad, Jon. But it is important, though.”

She said it so calmly as if they were about to talk about Winterfell matters. It didn’t somehow calm Jon’s tensed face.

They marched up to the Queen’s solar together, with Gendry and Arya's hands interlocked and Charlotte happily telling her Uncle about her time in the Godswood.

They found Sansa by the hearth and her sewing materials laid in front of her. She was making a dress that was sure to fit one little Princess in the room.

“What would you like to tell us?” Sansa asked. Now, Charlotte sat by her feet playing with the different colored thread. Jon stood beside her.

Arya breathed in deeply and tightened her grip on Gendry's hand and felt him return the gesture before she spoke.

“Gendry and I are to be married.”

The response they received made them share the same confused gazes.

Jon relaxed his shoulders and laughed hard.

Sansa released a deep sigh and muttered, “Oh thank the seven,” as she looked up to the ceiling.

Charlotte only stared at her mama and papa.

When Jon finally composed himself and uttered a few ‘I’m sorry’s’, Sansa stood on her feet to give Arya a tight hug and a good pat on the shoulder for Gendry.

“Congratulations. I’ve been waiting for this day to come.”

“Have you really?”

“Oh Arya. Jon and I knew this was coming.”

“Aye,” Jon supported.

“So when is the wedding?” Sansa excitedly asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Gendry snapped his head towards Arya.

They haven’t discussed much further about the wedding and for Arya to say that it will be happening the next day just showed how eager she was to marry him.

The warmth he felt inside of him traveled from his toes to the last strand of hair on his head.

When Arya caught his eyes, she gave him a small smile.

“That’s too soon. We won’t have enough time-”

“To prepare?” Arya cut her sister off. “We only need a maester, Sansa. And you and Jon and Charlotte. I wish Bran and Ser Davos was here, or even Brienne but…”

“You know how we are. We’d like for the ceremony to be simple. Just us,” Gendry added.

Sansa nodded understandingly.

Then Jon shuffled to stand closer to them. “A feast then. To celebrate with the Northerners and the few Stormlanders with us,” he suggested.

Gendry and Arya nodded in agreement.

After supper as Arya was helping Gendry put Charlotte to bed. Marie came with a message from Sansa saying that she was being summoned to the Queen’s chambers when she’d bid Charlotte good night.

As they lay beside each other on Charlotte’s bed, after Gendry shared a story of a boy meeting a rebel girl in the streets of King’s Landing, after they kissed her goodnight, Gendry calmly ran his hand on his daughter's hair.

“You know, little one, there will be a ceremony tomorrow,” Gendry stated in a small voice.

“What is it?”

Arya knitted her brows together as she sent Gendry a questioning look.

“We will be celebrating our pack. You, me, your mama.”

“Why?” the innocent question made Gendry chuckle. Arya was still wondering where the conversation was heading.

He reached out a hand to Arya who happily took it as she scooted closer to their daughter.

“Because I love you, little one,” he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“And I also love you, my Choti,” Arya added smiling down on her daughter who giggled.

Gendry held Arya’s eyes as he said his next words, “And I love your mama.”

He held his breath as he watched Arya’s eyes lit up.

She rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand and whispered, “I love you. And I’m glad you’re here with us now.”

Gendry’s smile grew wider and wider. Arya had heard him say those words to her yet it was his first time to hear them from her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

Arya playfully smiled at him, “After tomorrow? No, you’re not going anywhere without us, right Choti?”

The little Princess nodded happily and Arya was sure Charlotte had no idea what half of what she said meant.

“I love you mama. I love you papa,” she kissed her parents on the cheeks.

“And we love you, little one.”

It didn’t take long for the little Princess to fall asleep that night, with her parents by her side.

Arya had decided to leave the room and meet Sansa.

“”I’ll stay here for a little longer,” Gendry whispered as she crept out of the featherbed.

She nodded in reply and left Charlotte a peck on his cheek and Gendry a chaste kiss.

Sansa was on the edge of her featherbed, embroidering.

She looked up when Arya knocked and entered.

“You asked for me?”

“Yes,” she said excitedly crossed the short distance from her bed to the small table by the hearth.

There was a big bundle of cloth sitting there and Sansa gestured for her to take it.

“I was meaning to give you this before we leave for King’s Landing,” Sansa watched in anticipation as Arya unfolded the cloth, a cloak.

Arya’s eyes danced as she studied the Stark grey cloak with Baratheon yellow lining with black embroidered branches of the weirwood tree.

The cloak was held by clasps that looked like the Stark’s direwolf sigil.

“How did you… When…”

Sansa chuckled lightly when she left her sister speechless.

“When you told me you thought you love Gendry my hands couldn’t help but make one. I also made a replica for Charlotte,” Sansa smiled sweetly and Arya could feel the tears pooling in her eyes.

“For me the reason why I made it that way,” she pointed at the Baratheon colors, “I just thought of Charlotte really. And when you decided to name her Stark-Baratheon… Well, it made sense. I made one for Gendry too. I hope it’s as good as the first two. I just started making it after Charlotte’s naming day.”

Sansa stumbled backward with the embrace that attacked her.

Arya didn’t stop the tears that came rolling down her face at her sister’s words.

“Don’t be like that,” Sansa laughed. “I made one for Jon when we were in Castle Black. It’s just my way-”

“Of showing you love us,” Arya finished for her with a grin.

Sansa nodded shyly. She took Arya’s hand that was not holding the cloak and gave it a tight hold, “We’re family. I’m just happy our family is growing,” Arya dropped the cloak she was holding on the table and reached her now empty hand to wipe away the single tear that slipped out of her sister’s eyes.

"I'm happy you're happy," Sansa added.

“I am.”

Arya strode back to Charlotte’s chambers with her new cloak and Charlotte’s. Sansa promised she’d hand Gendry’s cloak herself.

Arya knew what that meant.

When she slowly opened the wooden door, she gasped at the sight of Gendry still on his side of the bed.

As she walked in silence to come closer to them, she found Gendry asleep too.

Leaving the gifts on the table beside her daughter’s bed, she crawled on the empty space beside Charlotte.

The smile on her face never left even after she drifted off to sleep.

Gendry was in the kitchens talking to Hot Pie about the upcoming ceremony later that day. He was surprised to see the bed empty when he woke up that morning. He accidentally fell asleep as he seized his moment with his daughter.

When he awoke in the middle of the night as he stretched his limbs, he found Arya peacefully sleeping beside their daughter.

His discussion with Hot Pie was put to a stop when Jon came telling him to follow him to Sansa’s solar.

Gendry knew what that meant.

He stood nonchalantly in front of the Queen in the North with Jon Snow beside her.

“We want to welcome you to the family, Gendry,” Sansa started. “Well, you have always been part of the pack. You had a special place in our sister’s heart. You still do. We never thanked you for all you’ve done for her.”

Gendry bowed his head, “We took care of each other. There’s no need to thank me.”

“Still. Arya’s a tough person, she doesn’t trust people easily and yet…” Sansa smiled, hoping Gendry understood what she meant.

His eyes moved to Jon when he cleared his throat, signal that he also has something more to add.

“You went beyond the Wall with me knowing the risks. I always knew you were a fast runner,” Jon japed causing them all to laugh.

“Did you do it for Arya?” Jon asked after they’ve all calmed down.

Gendry went silent for a few seconds taking in a deep breath.

_Was it for Arya? Was it for Jon because he’s Arya’s brother? Was it…_

“I did it for the 'what if’s',” Gendry replied.

The confusion reflected on Sansa and Jon’s faces made him elaborate his answer. 

“Yes, I did it for Arya,” he said firmly. “After I was taken by Melisandre I had no idea where she was. I always wondered if she made to Riverrun and found your mother and brother. I wondered if she’s back here in the North when I heard the Boltons had taken it. I wondered if she’s still alive.”

He shook his head at the thought of it.

“When Davos introduced me to you,” he nodded his head to Jon, “I couldn’t make myself ask about Arya. I went beyond the Wall with you believing she is well and happy and I want to keep it that way. If the dead were to come…” he chuckled lightly. “They did and she…” the proud and amused look on Gendry’s face made Sansa and Jon exchange knowing looks.

"I wanted to fight the dead to keep her safe even though I know nothing of her whereabouts. But I know Arya well enough to believe that she'll be able to fight through everything so I know she's still there somewhere."

"We understand," said Jon with a reassuring grin.

“You love her. And you love Charlotte.”

“More than anything, Sansa,” he replied genuinely.

Sansa nodded. She took the cloak that was on the table and walked over to Gendry and handed it to him.

“A gift from the North.”

As Gendry unfolded the cloak, Jon patted him on the back.

“Take care of them, Gendry.”

Gendry’s eyes bounced from Sansa to Jon and to the cloak he was holding. He was confused about what it was for.

“Arya and Charlotte… They also have their own,” said Sansa. “You can wear it tonight at the ceremony.”

Gendry shook his head as he uttered a thank you.

He was given a hug as a reply and Gendry couldn’t be more grateful.

Jon did the same. The welcoming embrace made him realize how lucky he was to have a family. A family that Arya had given him.

They had discussed how they wanted the ceremony to be done during supper the night prior.

Maester Wolkan was very delighted to be given the great honor to wed two individuals from two great houses.

Gendry had sent a raven to Ser Davos, telling him of his plans for the future and he will discuss it further with him when they meet in King’s Landing.

After meeting with Sansa and Jon, he spent most of his day in the forge hoping his love for creating new things with his hands would help with the excitement and agitation he was feeling.

He hadn’t seen Arya the whole day but he was told the young warrior went to Wintertown with Charlotte.

Later that day, when the sun was about to set, he saw a glimpse of her in the practice yard, thrashing her Needle in the air.

He couldn’t help himself but approach her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be inside preparing?”

Arya halted her steps and turned to face him.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to wear a dress,” a brow raised at him.

“No m’lady. I expect you to be wearing breeches at our wedding,” he took a step closer to her.

“Good. Because that’s exactly what I will be wearing-”

“Arya! Gendry!”

They both snapped their heads to the voice. Sansa was marching towards them looking perturbed.

“Why are you both still here? You should get changed,” she demanded.

Arya rolled her eyes at her sister as Gendry stifled a laugh.

“Yes Sansa. We’re going inside now,” Arya rolled her eyes one more time and grabbed Gendry by the wrist and dragged him with her, leaving Sansa in the yard.

Gendry walked her to her chambers and left her with a quick kiss before he promised to see her in the Godswood for their wedding.

Arya didn’t try to hide her crimson cheeks.

There was no need for anyone. Except when she decided to wash herself before she changed on her best dress shirt and breeches.

She was putting on her boots when Jon knocked on her door with Sansa right behind him.

She gave her siblings tight embraces and never released Sansa’s hand when the Queen started to sniffle.

“Where’s Charlotte?”

“With her father. She wanted to walk with him in the Godswood,” replied Jon.

He then took the idle cloak from the featherbed and motioned for Arya to move closer to him.

As Jon placed the cloak around her small frame, she never took her hand away from her sister. Her breath quivered as Jon locked the clasps on her chest.

As the three of them walked in the darkness, Arya rubbed her hands together as the crips cold air bit on her skin. She wondered if it was her nervousness and eagerness to have Gendry as her husband that made her feel more cold because she noticed it was just her shivering in the night.

As they got closer to the Godswood, Sansa walked ahead of them and rushed to stand beside the giddy Charlotte.

The glow from the torches perched on the ground illuminated their surroundings.

Their shadows danced in the woods as Arya walked with her arm locked with Jon’s.

She exchanged silent sniggers with her daughter, a sweet smile with her sister, a curt nod with the Maester and an affectionate gaze with her lover.

As she and Jon stood beside Gendry in front of the heart tree, she heard him whisper in the smallest voice. "I love you."

She mouthed the three words back before Maester Wolkan asked, “Who comes before the Old Gods...And the Seven this night?”

Jon lifted his chin as he answered, “Arya, of House Stark, comes here to wed. She comes to beg the blessing of the Old Gods and the New. Who comes to claim her?”

“Gendry, of House Baratheon. Who gives her?”

Gendry’s confident voice made Arya’s heart skip a beat. It showed his determination and how much he really wanted to marry her. She never thought it was possible for her to love him even more.

“Jon Snow, her brother,” Arya locked her eyes with Jon as they both shared a moment of their own.

Her brother. They may not share the same parents, but in their hearts he was her brother and she was his sister.

Maester Wolkan than proceeded and asked, “Princess Arya, do you take this man?”

She gave Gendry a smile, “I take this man.”

In honor of their parents and Houses. Arya and Gendry had decided to have their ceremony with the traditions of both the Old Gods and the New.

They lifted their hands and intertwined their fingers as Maester Wolkan tied a ribbon around them in union.

And together they spoke, “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…”

“I am his and he is mine.”

“I am hers and she is mine.”

“From this day, until the end of my days.”

Then kneeled together in prayer, hands still tied with each other.

Arya thanked all the Gods for giving her her life, her family, her daughter, her friends, and Gendry. She thanked them for the people who gave their lives for her, her father and mother, her brothers, those who fought during the war, those who protected her, Sandor and Beric. She thanked them for giving her more days to be with the people she loves. She thanked them for her future, their future. She prayed for their guidance, for their blessing as she continues her new life with her family. She prayed for her marriage. For her family.

She knew Gendry prayed for the same things. She knew he prayed for her and Charlotte and the future of their family. 

The newlyweds didn’t wait for them to be told, they shared a passionate kiss in front of the Gods and their family as they declared their hearts;

_My husband._

_My wife._

As they marched together inside the castle, the crowd cheered for them. Charlotte seemed to enjoy the extended attention given to her by the Northerners and the few Stormlanders who were there to celebrate with them.

Just like the feast they had when Jon came home, it was like a normal evening except for the fancy wine, music and dancing.

No Lords and Ladies, no fancy dresses and pretend small talks.

It was how Arya and Gendry wanted it to be.

They laughed as Jon carried Charlotte in the middle of the hall for a dance.

The little girl giggled as her Uncle swayed her around.

Gendry purposely bumped Arya in the shoulder to catch her attention and invited her to dance, “Will my wife join me for a dance?”

Arya shook her head with a laugh, “Dance with Sansa first, then I will dance with you.”

“Oh don’t drag along, Arya. It’s tradition for the newlyweds to dance with each other fist,” Sansa argued from her seat beside her sister.

Arya rolled her eyes but took Gendry’s hand anyway.

They started awkwardly as they tried not to step on each other’s foot. But as more members from the crowd joined in, they threw caution in the air and started to dance freely.

Jon dragged Sansa to dance with her and Charlotte. The little girl was enjoying herself too much, it didn’t take long before she lost all her energy.

Arya and Gendry took it as a sign that it was time for them to retreat in their chambers.

They bid everyone goodnight and gave her siblings hugs and 'thank you’s' before they walked to Charlotte’s chambers together.

After helping the little Princess with her nightclothes, the three of them lay on the featherbed with satisfied grins on their faces.

“Are you happy, Choti?”

The little girl nodded with fervor.

“When will we go see Uncle Bran?”

Arya peered over to Gendry, the random question surprised them.

“In two more days, little one,” Gendry replied as he patted the blanket.

Charlotte didn’t say anything in response, her little fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of the blanket.

“What is it, Choti?”

Charlotte turned to face her mother, “I want to see Uncle Bran, Ser Davos, Ser Brienne and Podrick.”

“Oh my love,” Arya cupped her daughter’s cheek with her hand, “We will see them soon, don’t worry.”

She kissed her forehead and cuddled closer to her. Gendry shifted on his side to hold Charlotte too.

When the little Princess was fast asleep, her parents decided it was time for them to head for their own chambers as well.

In silence, they peeled themselves from their daughter and stepped out in the corridor.

Greetings after greetings, Arya and Gendry said their ‘thank you’s’ and ‘goodnight's’ to whomever they pass by.

The clothes and things Gendry brought with him were moved to Arya’s chambers earlier that day so they both headed for her bedroom straight away. Now it was Princess Arya and Lord Gendry’s chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I write this all the time and I want to say it again. THANK YOU! Thank you for reading, the kudos, comments, support and for sticking with me as I share this story with you. I never thought I'd make a fanfic this long but well, here I am.  
Sending love to you guys!<3
> 
> I'll be replying to comments in the morning... Sorry for the delay.
> 
> xoxo, coffeexwhiskey


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